A Poem (This Is A Rarity)

I thought I would post a piece of poetry I wrote for class last term. I am not much of a poet but I like this one. Plus I am very busy this week with the Pittsburgh Savoyards’ production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Utopia Limited”, painting sets and being generally awesome. So I thought to keep the posts rolling until I am not so busy anymore I would use some material I have saved. I also think this poem is fitting. It is about winter. And the course of nature. And stuff. Enjoy! I need to go make a chicken and get ready to paint.

The Skeleton of the Summer Breeze

The wood beyond the railroad trestle stares back at me,

twinkling with snow, as I try to tell the difference 

between the smoke from my cigarette

and my breath. The moon pierces through her trees,

showering her in a glow. 

The wind is fierce and whips by us, 

piercing my skin; no jacket, of course.

The freezing air pushes snow up from the ground.

It blows about, consuming my view.

It eats away at the snowman with the beer cap nose 

and missing arms.

The snapping of the branches and the nipping at my face 

send a fire to my brain:

“Put out the cigarette. Go inside.”

But I stay, now hypnotized as a train 

chugs by. It skids along the tracks.

It moves across the glow of the ground like a shadow.

I watch it make its full run as it passes

between her and I.

My cigarette is all ash, still retaining shape.

I toss the butt and look one last time to the wood. 

The skeleton of the summer breeze. She is laid to rest

in diamonds, and will emerge wearing emeralds.

All the while, she will be staring back at me.

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