Friday, February 2, 2024

Beaten Down - Feb 1 2024

 

Beaten Down

Feb 1 2024


So long since it snowed,

and the world looks like an aging man

who's lived too long alone,

stopped taking care of himself

because why bother?


Outside, the snow is grimy

and beaten down,

bare spots

have exposed asphalt

stained with salt,

dead grass

leached of chlorophyll.

The low banks

where the sun hits

are granular and pitted.


While he looks pale and worn,

has bad teeth

a patchy beard

mismatched clothes.

His walk is stooped

and something smells off,

a mustiness

mixed with body odour.

It's gotten easy to ignore

the soiled sheets

unmade bed

sink of dirty dishes.


There are icy bits

from freeze and thaw

where the unwary walker will slip and fall.

While he heats canned soup

in an unwashed pan

on a 2-burner hotplate encrusted with spills;

which, more often than not

he lets grow cold

when the memories come over him.


The snow cover

thin to start

has been compacted even more,

so the frost

has worked itself deeper,

freezing pipes

and causing the soil to heave.


While a sadness

he doesn't understand

is slowly sapping his soul;

nothing matters anymore,

does anyone really care?


Perhaps a winter storm

will set things right.

Conceal the sins of the world

in a mantle of white,

and allow the warmth

at the planet's core

to percolate up.


Because any change would be restorative.

Even the possibility

give a measure of hope.


I had no idea where this poem was going — if anywhere — when I set down the first line. But when the tired landscape made me picture a grizzled old man who looks pale and worn and has neglected himself, the analogy committed me to that direction. And as I kept working the analogy (or, if you prefer, was trapped by it), I felt he poem needed to end offering a measure of redemption.

Since I'm a man of a certain age who has long lived alone, this might easily be mistaken for autobiography. Elements of truth, perhaps; but hardly that! I think, on rereading, that the poem actually speaks more to PTSD than it does to solitude or the perils of bachelorhood.


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