Winter Walks

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  • Lost Love

    Winter Walks
    Swirling snow encased in streetlights glow
    Barely noticed another late night walk alone
    Thoughts lost to other days, parallel worlds
    Existence containment within fabric of time
    Sure, wasn't fucking detailed dreams of her
    her warm hand laying graceful my forearm
    driftwood chair along Lake Michigan shores
    Drove me from underneath goose comforter
    Meander aimless contented winters cold dark
    Visions of August yellowed butterflies, tall grass.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Skylr’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Winter Walks 0 03/13/2009
    San Felipe Run 0 02/13/2009
    Cornerstones 0 02/12/2009
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