Archive 12/31/09 - (1)

   

Other Beauty

                                                                  

 

I've been a frequent resident of this Wisconsin enclave,

But never in the winter,

And I'm out of sync with every element enveloping me.

 

I'm not used to such pervasive, lingering whiteness.

My eyes sense it strange, implausible, surreal

That the lake and sky are mirror images of each other.

 

More disorienting, ten days into my sojourn,

I've caught barely a blur of a furry creature or bird,

Mostly just tracks in the snow, flakes flying in the sky.

 

Having to be encumbered by harsh-weather clothing,

When I wend through the demanding woods,

And, otherwise, being confined to this cabin throw me.

 

Not that I really mind this much solitude, isolation;

I favor the company of books, music, meditation,

Over small conversation with too-large egos.

 

Indeed, up here, I'm beginning to see, feel, learn

That winter's exaggerations, idiosyncrasies, inconveniences

Are what make its severe beauty visible to me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                               

 

12/31/09 - (1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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