Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Hoary

Gently
on my lashes.
Deftly
on my tongue.
Novel
at first
then
less new
and finally
numbing.
Unique.
Every one.

Pure.
And pristine
until sullied
until slushed
by the traffic
the traffic
the traffic.

Encrusted.
Frozen fiasco.
Soot.
And gray.
Granular.
And black.
Slicked.
And yellow.
Pissed.

The paralysis
the stupor
lying in the drifts
as the fate
the fear
the faith and finality
the frost
the frost
the frost
... bites.

8 comments:

Capegirl said...

this feels heartbreakingly familiar. and very beautiful in its sadness. thanks for visiting my blog. and the linkage :)

KGT said...

Thank you Capegirl for spending a few moments here. Come back often.

Louise said...

This is wonderful. The words are used sparingly, but are perfectly chosen. Blunt but not without beauty.

I'm definitely ready for the thawing. I've had enough of this "frozen fiasco" of winter and everything it has brought with it.

KGT said...

Louise- amen sister. The frozen fiasco may end any time now. We up here in Upstate NY are beginning to feel this winter is taking on Narnia characteristics, the spell of the eternal winter of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. We are ready for Aslan's visit.

Thanks for your compliments on the poem.

RomanceWriter said...

You make winter seem beautifully gritty. My favorite part were the lines that repeated.

KGT said...

Thank you RR!

Janey Loree said...

"Gently
on my lashes...
Deftly
on my tongue.
Novel
at first
then
less new
and finally
numbing.
Unique.
Every one."

This is hauntingly beautiful and thought provoking!

I am visiting via the "Poet Who Blog" Carnival.

KGT said...

Thank you JL...what thoughts are provoked?

How do your sons enjoy those mustangs? We have regular old shetlands and thoroughbreds here.