Warmth returns
to the land
to my toes, legs and hands
and to the way we speak, in our ups and downs
Warmth returns to the frozen ground
Warm breezes pass between us
reminding us of all the reasons
to even try
to stay alive
and stay up late to stare at the night sky
Reminding us: it will soon be July!
Nighttime walking
when the cold bites
and the little lights line the streets
like crooked teeth in the night’s wily smile
We walk a while
We wait for feelings that were once erased
We know they can’t be replaced so we chase them
into snowy streets
onto ice sheets where cars don’t dare to drive
We hope to come alive
We walk a while
and try to find our smiles
The trees droop
despite their lack of leaves
Sunbeams reach in between
and find the place where you and me lay
pressed against each other’s cheeks
Birds skip along bronzed branches
making pinecone dancers
Chorus lines that silently swing in time
to the rhythm of the soft twilight
Spring is wild
like the eyes of a child
Dark and bright
like a starry, starry night
Lit from behind like a high flying kite
Winking and waving at the warm sun
Glowing with hope for the days to come
Breezes move twisted trees
and dried up leaves teeter on the tips of stripped branches
Their quick dances end when their stems are ripped
and the leaves are whipped into misty air
leaving the branches bare
Birds break pods of plants long gone
interrupting each other with chatter and song
On stormy days we braved the rain
to venture through valleys of sunken grades
Through fields of fog on level planes
To places where puddles struggle to drain
and colors fade
Greens into brown and yellows to grey
In flannel we marched like a cheerful parade
Seeking shelter in places that normally shade
Feeling cozy, though frozen, under tree or in cave
In a dank, dark place along our route
we happened upon the valuable truth
that in order to live we must put on our boots
and break from places we’re warm and dry,
but barely alive
and missing a misting so sweet I could cry
Elsa Curtis | I like to write 