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!
Monochromatic is the perfect word for winter. You conveyed that struggle of the poet quite well! I think most writers have been there at *least* once (probably in winter, too…lol). 🙂 Well said, Victoria!
I NEVER have a start. I asked Pete Marshall how he found the words for first lines. He said he had hundreds. Once he combined a whole list of them to start a poem. I was dumbfounded. Pete wrote naturally in iambic tetrameter as well and hadn’t a clue what either of those words meant. Sometimes blessings are simply bestowed, and sometimes we have to work to find the right words, the hooks, the lonely line that lets the rest flow and ties it all to a glorious end. Your work always does that. I love its conciseness, spareness, lucidity just as this is.
Weather-inspired poetry is frequently moody. I like very much your “stagger through a maze of words.”
What I love about this is the dialectic between silence/words and possibility/reality. The poet capture the moment’s beauty, and in each moment tries to recapture that moment for all eternity. However, even the poet must exist n the world of necessity, a world of prosaic reality. Your poem is wonderful for recognizing and acknowledging this.
Gave me a little shiver, although its 35C here 🙂
sadness and winter chill
i’m glad you had the time to join in…The poet gropes for one to fill the emptiness…so much spaces that can be filled with words…it just has to be the right one..and that’s where the groping comes in..
Lovely visions of winter (though it’s not my favorite season) ~ I found my muse during the months of lonely winter ~
Happy day ~
def the mood plays into the writing of poetry…and sometimes the emotions so intense we grope for words to even express what we are feeling…or even when the words desert us…oh how bleak…hope your trip is going well!
Many times there’s a lot of groping for just the right word…beautifully put, Victoria.