Staggering through a maze of words,
The poet gropes for one to fill the emptiness.
Dark skies obscure even shadows.
Monochromatic gray scales the horizon.
Flecks of asphalt sprinkle once-white snow,
heaped in mounds beside the road.
Remembrance of beauty fades, evades.
November dies with dreams of loveliness and magic.
Winter doldrums stagger through a maze of words,
extinguish artistry, ignite loneliness.
Perhaps a bit out of season for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere. This is an old poem, edited and posted for dVerse Meeting the Bar where Gay Canon challenges us to write poetry about poetry. I’m late, but there’s still time to join!