Frosty sort of poem...
Valerie Polichar
(~1 year ago)! Comments, as always, are fiercely solicited :)
========================================================================
I Should Like
I should like to have this sea to walk in when I'm old:
pale and sunset-stained,
seaweed draped like shawls around the sand.
A gull stands out in bold relief against the foamy sky;
children scream; sandpipers fail to fly.
I'd like to leave my pack on the rugged seam of cliff
and settle feet into the soothing tide.
I've kept my shoes on much too many years;
the beach wouldn't seem so long if I could wade its length,
scaring little birds with my steps, and not so wide.
Fifty years from now the tide will still come in;
the gulls still skreek, the children fist their shells in sweaty hands;
the lovers still build castles in the dying light;
and I will still be walking on the sand.
========================================================================
--
Valerie Polichar sdcsvax!net1!valerie net1!val...@SDCSVAX.UCSD.EDU
This is a fake signature. If it were a real signature, you would have
fled, terror-striken, from your terminal.
Chris Tong
OLD WIND
Let it rest wife, no more.
What's done is done.
Old Wind...
he blew up a storm today, my friend.
Folks say they've not seen anything like it
for nigh on fifteen years;
he came in stealth
when only neighbors' "How's yer health? It's
gonna be quite a gale!"
and diapers waving on the clothsline
could tell he was there.
Then he emerged, playful,
whistling down the chimney and
through cracks in the windows,
tossing the garbage cans
end on end, an errant schoolboy.
Day wore on and he grew mighty hard;
he wrestled with the old pine in the front yard
where me and Shelly used to play
and blew it away;
stalking the fields,
he, in his prime, cut down all the crops
long before the harvest time.
But we had no heat;
Old Wind
on his last breath, cold and wild,
crept in with fingers greedy for life
and stole my child.
Chris Tong