September 20, 2012

poem 333 of a poem a day for 2012



slow fingering my soul's music into keys

I wake up
and its 36 degrees
and the inkblots
of my dreams
fall out as if sand
from the corners
of my eyes

somewhere
beneath the pile
of an extra blanket
is my curled body
beginning to stretch
and reach with my feet
for solid conscious ground
and I find the cold air
at the precipice of Autumn
is waiting for me
as if in the quiet minions
of harbinger snow lying in wait
in the frost on the cars
outside the window I left open
to siphon the dark
and grind the falling stars
into my sleep

a whole night
of carousal-ing images
on a diner rack
spinning desires over easy
and toasting them lightly
with some fresh squeezed
orange juice in small glasses
the coffee is poured
one after another
until I finally look up
and yawn

I pull the paper close
and mumble about my arms
not being long enough
to read after I turned 40
and nothing makes sense
in the news so I slow
my beating heart down a bit
and peer out the window
at the purity of the silence
draped over mornings now
wishing I too
was with those seed birds
gone south for Winter again

EJR ©

9 comments:

  1. ohhhh, I like. the close is so strong and beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank You...for stopping by...much gratitude...Edward

      Delete
  2. I think many people would associate season's other than winter with "peaceful," but I love some of those cold, curled up in a blanket with a book and hot mug, moments. So many of the images in this speak to me (cold, age, waking moments, change of season, etc. Really enjoyed it all. Thank you for sharing it.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Great flow through the moments that define our solitude and inner life, beautifully done.

    ReplyDelete
  4. my arms not being long enough to read...ha...i love autumn and waking to those cool mornings....makes me want to stay in bed a few extra minutes....solitude by together...i love the morning though and that is my alone time before the fam gets up...

    ReplyDelete
  5. strong and emotional, loved the inkblots and the arms, great write

    ReplyDelete
  6. Seed birds going South --- ah but they would miss the Crisp autumn. Well said.

    ReplyDelete
  7. cool mornings snuggled under warm blankets... maybe a cup of coffee on your night stand. I love it!

    ReplyDelete
  8. smiles...my boss' arms are not long enough too...always smiling when i see him stretch them to read something...wanting to go south with the birds...i feel this..beautiful solitude and a piece of freedom..

    ReplyDelete