After the Storm
Jan 12 2014


In the long slog of winter
we defer to nature,
who can be biblical, in her wrath,
instructing us
in humility.

In long laborious winter
we yawn, rub our eyes,
toy with giving in
to hibernation.
Blood thickens, skin pales
appetite quickens
and sleep overtakes,
as we struggle against
our animal nature.

In the long night of winter
we turn to making love,
numb extremities
coming back to life.

Cocooned in heavy comforters, and hungry for touch
we cling to each other,

the heat of naked bodies

one on one.

We are creatures of the night
with great luminous eyes,
bundled-up
in the stillness of snow.
We drift through shadows
in shapeless clothes,
caught outside
after the storm.

Or retreat indoors;
ravenous, carnivorous
in lascivious warmth.

This poem had so many false starts, blind alleys, and dead ends, I'm surprised it amounted to anything. But I kept picking away at it (which felt a lot like good money after bad), and once I realized I had to re-order the stanzas, push the refrain a bit harder, and smooth off a few rough bits, it suddenly started to work. So while it may not be great, I'm pretty pleased with it, knowing how weak the earlier versions were.

I've written a few poems along the same theme, many years ago. They may be better. Which is rather dispiriting, since I'd like to think my work is improving with time, not regressing. On the other hand, even if the whole is not seamless, I know there are parts I wouldn't have been able to pull off before, because I suspect I would have been too wordy, or too tangential; or said too much, or been too clever (the show-off rhyme, the big word.) Which, I suppose, is progress of a sort.