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"hibernal" poems
When winter's glaze is lifted from the greens, And cups are freshly cut, and birdies sing, Triumphantly the stifled golfer preens In cleats and slacks once more, and checks his swing. This year, he vows, his head will steady be, His weight-shift smooth, his grip and stance ideal; And so they are, until upon the tee Befall the old contortions of the real. So, too, the tennis-player, torpid from Hibernal months of television sports, Perfects his serve and feels his knees become Sheer muscle in their unaccustomed shorts. Right arm relaxed, the left controls the toss, Which shall be high, so that the racket face Shall at a certain angle sweep across The floated sphere with gutty strings--an ace! The mind's eye sees it all until upon The courts of life the faulty way we played In other summers rolls back with the sun. Hope springs eternally, but spring hopes fade.
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The Sometime Sportsman Greets the Spring
The Autumn missal has arrived, A fall reminder of the coming cold, Strange slanting light to shift the maple Greens to furious red and gold. High above the myriad travelers chant adieu, As on their sky-road paths they sing, A chorus glorious to southern waters blue Where winter marshes serve a warm retreat. A liturgy of highest order drives the world Beyond the ken of time-old cycles round; Hibernal instinct now in feral life unfurls: Flogs squirrels outward on their oak-corn bounds, Plushes wealth of wolves' warm winter fur, Hardens bone and antler, deepens feathered down, Adds harvest fat to beast and fish and fowl, Drives sap below old Frost's attempt to burrow down. _________________ Unspoken paen unheard by almost all, A careless shivering passerby may dread This ritual changing of the Fall, But never mind, the liturgy is read, And Nature safely tucks herself into her wintery bed.
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Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 9:53 AM UTC
Autumn Liturgy
dark hair, darker nights the winter solstice draws us together again
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Feb 8, 2023
Feb 8, 2023 at 2:47 AM UTC
hibernal
i feel drunk when reading about drunks looped no bracement i look up from the book it's 6:45 a.m. i'm in the hospital cafeteria nearly time for work in a stranger      i clock a face                      struggling to become a face publicly             she breakfasts bent under a hood of hair (she's not sure what expression                      to let be witnessed ) i dodge her glance overloom the windows make a massive jet mirror           reaching the full ballroom height a shield onto hard darkness    protected from a primal cavity the patrons are shied in its casting a smudging forms at its base    the horizon beeking    an easing hint of winters sun the glow is wanted           but it brings nothing new to its display still a hibernal wash i don't hum with these morning frequencies they can be beautiful but i pitch sickly and i suspect the stranger girl is also no dawn spark either
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Feb 24, 2022
Feb 24, 2022 at 11:49 AM UTC
jet bleak
You told me I could fall asleep Laying on your chest, The rise And fall Of your breathing Urging me to rest. The unearthly zephyr sang stridulant verses Transuding through the window The hibernal ghost couldn’t touch you or I, Underneath our lullaby. Thwack. Awake. You wrapped your fingers around my neck The skin red and raw You screeched to me, questioned who I was The only word that escaped was ‘more’ The concavity of where you laid Was warm under my heavy skull My thoughts drifted To the beat of your feet Silently Inevitably Creeping Away. The light bled through the pullulating slit Where you disdained me a final time You left without knowing you’d left a thing Call it forgetting. Theft. Crime. Where was this cryptic noise conceived? I wondered that a while It was your flesh Your bones and blood Your heart and soul Your child.
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 8:07 PM UTC
Child
A sleepy rodent and an arrowed lover Predict cold winter's tail is nearly past. The Frost Lizard's cold and lifeless breath Slithers January and February through, But cannot muster up the frozen breath To freeze the hibernal world to death. We wait the moistening breath of Spring Inside our hovels, here beneath the blowing snow. Listening to the heavy moving thighs and trampling claws Of a dying lizard, moving slow, but forced to go.
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Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
Winter's Tail
In the moment, a beginning, when opened, cage is body. A city, prison. I am blood in the sinew of labyrinths restored. How it began, I was gradually introduced. This empire of the city and I. Careful enough to fit in the chamber of a car, held hostage by drumming sounds. Body shaken by multitude music, well-guarded in this secret. In the moment, a beginning, when pried open, indicative of story. Body is novel. Moments punctuate. I am a line that pursues the center. How it began, I was quick to expect the finality. This city before meant nothing to me. Now that I have arrived, I breathe through stations filled with hibernal faces waiting the train to commiserate. Questions form a body to converse with. Answers a momentous day, forthcoming of something, tremendous with the hubris of forecast: Today the sun is as shameful as shameful can be, force-opened the windows for air to bloom. This is intention of the season. Watching salt slowly descend, I know how to dance with my sweat. I taste my skin to prove it. What must I be in the moment, a beginning, when opened? Whose body I long to cage? With what magnitude do I try to surprise? What well-guarded perdition I try to relinquish?
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May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
In The Beginning
thrifty fat tree rat hibernal conditions bid burrow and becalmed
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Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 11:37 AM UTC
subnivean
Holiday seasons’ snowy glens Inside the frosted windows, white. Bundled in warmth of love so tight. Evening stars above & on Christmas tree. Rushing in excitement to unwrap and tear free, Needful youths for things of worth. Acts of kindness louder than words. Lovely, daily winter gifts, sharing the world, hibernal.
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Dec 6, 2019
Dec 6, 2019 at 4:43 AM UTC
HIBERNAL / acrostic