transition

transition

 

 

the bleak foliage

cries in windfull sighs

summer hitched a ride

and left winter in its cold cab

 

circling the driveway

waiting for its fare

in the frigid air

of make believe

 

spring is the driver

but she won't open up

like a bud delaying the inevitable

we toasted the moon's persistence

 

i became the snow

getting in my own way

slogging through drifts

my mind applauding

 

relating

i felt a warm thought

so suddenly, it felt as a collision

of senses

 

meanwhile,

the meter just kept running

into sunset

she kept the change, i accepted.

 

 

erin-cilberto

3/10/23

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

The seasonal change is upon us. Or is it? We are getting Spring days and warm sunshine now with lows in the teens next week. I fear many plants and trees will suffer the change and some will not survive. Such is our North Carolina weather. I like the way you use changes in the weather as a metaphor for changing relationships and interaction between the sexes. Lets hope the participants fare better in their mutual endeavors than our meteorological insanity of late. I enjoyed the read.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Fabian,
j.

[Chris Shaw]

The transition from winter to spring is taking its time this year. We have had snowfall too in March. It has been a cold winter but warm thoughts tell me that soring is surely about to stay. I love your third stanza J.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

interesting year, weather-wise...and so many still say, no global warming...no hearts warming either.
thank you, Chris,
j.

[DIVYA]

"i became the snow
getting in my own way
slogging through drifts
my mind applauding"

I just had to quote these lines as I loved them so much. The poet becomes the snow, getting in his own way. The warm thought then feels like a collision. The seasons seem to have done their own thing and the transition is complete.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, divya,
j.

[Perdition]

It's always those tiny little words that we leave out, helping the reader create the uncreated. Those ugly common prepositions nuns made us memorize, removed and instead imagination throttled into images and dimensions. You are the snow; a drifter of life. This is a painting in process of all the seasons circling and doing exactly what they do...circling into some higher plan. Gotta love the "getting in your own way" line, because how else should we go about this beautiful madness?

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and they throttled us when we forgot them.
thank you, Perdition,
j.