draft


Returning from a long journey

Stark trees show up white and glowing
as sun hits an iron grey sky
full of doom and gloaming
never felt so dull and tired

I wipe heat dried eyes
try not to think of skin
being pulled out of shape,
I need summer rain
not this endless winter gloom
of hard ice hitting and winds
teasing and shoving from place to place

There is a rainbow somewhere,
I saw one, or rather two
they were interwoven like lovers
and where the other began
they fought for the finishing line.

Oh winter sun the some of my discontent
when you light up the trees
in some ethereal chorus I am made
so unbearably sad.

I stretch confined muscles
and feel the ache in my neck,
too long awake, too long,
just too long until destination
hopping, feet encased
in leather boots, heel tapping.

Here comes the storm again
I take a cup of Earl Grey
not steeped, I like it weak
just a hint of flavour
and kick away the plastic cups
of take aways and latte's
and stolen illicit kisses.

I watch the rain fall, falling as always
my heart beating, just enough
or too much,
now to real life and anxiety
my ever present companion.

See the stark trees, white
sheaning as winter sun hits iron grey
not a cobalt in sight, just a bolt
of storm in an otherwise
mundane arrival to the present.





Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 227 times
Written on 2018-01-26 at 10:40

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JuneCloud
Grey and beautiful
2018-04-19


shells
To me it seems like you're remembering an anniversary, possibly an unhappy painful one, in limbo between past and present. Beautifully written, love the line "oh winter sun, the some of my discontent." I take my Earl Grey just the same.
2018-01-28


jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Returning from a long dream, coming back from somewhere far away and not quite real, in fact, surreal, where colors aren't what they should be, and sounds are indistinct, and there is pain.

That's what the poem brings to mind for me.
2018-01-28


Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
A long journey indeed. But it seems like the wrong time of year to return. The gloom of winter strikes hard. The rainbows remembered, the tired and cramped muscles. As always you make the images visible and the feelings felt.
A bit intriguing, but a well-written tale.
Ashe
2018-01-27