Suddenly with the tactile brightness
from the intrusive, unwieldy snow,
the days are longer.
They have been for weeks,
but my soul is unusually buoyed today.
Dramatic weakness,
my soul being waved around
by the length of the day
like a terrible doll
from my dog’s clenched fangs.
The snow has its days
I need help to make my days.
Darkness should not swim so long
in my tiny green pond with dead fish.
stillfugue 
#1 by Evelyn on February 11, 2011 - 8:49 pm
“The snow has its days
I need help to make my days.
wow. so good.
#2 by Carl on February 11, 2011 - 10:05 pm
Ah, thanks much to you
#3 by Evelyn on February 12, 2011 - 6:50 pm
I also need help making my days…
thats such an honest line.
#4 by kolembo on February 11, 2011 - 9:01 pm
Ahaha….stillfugue, the comment stands for you too! Gorgeous poem, beautiful entry, lovely images (the dog with doll is super), masterful departure full of mist. Look at you.
#5 by Carl on February 11, 2011 - 10:17 pm
Thank you so much for your visit! Your work is fabulous. I’m lucky to have you come by.
#6 by y on February 15, 2011 - 8:10 pm
love, love “Darkness should not swim for so long…”
for a prelude-
to-an-afternoon-
nap, darkness
should not
swim for so
long. there
is nothing
that quite
primes stillness
as Ira, who lifts
words into
kaleidoscopic
flags, with no need
for anchors
to secure them
.
20110215:2110
y
#7 by Carl on February 15, 2011 - 8:59 pm
Oh, my! Look at what you have done! Fantastic! It has been a while, but Ira is quite good! Your work is so amazing. Thank you for your kindness!
#8 by y on February 15, 2011 - 9:03 pm
thank YOU!! and i’m glad you know to whom i refer (smile).