Simple Spring Storm

An urge to step out into the night

Watching lace curtains of crystals fall through the street light

Beginning to wrap the tops of the spider leg branches

Covering the walkway with a wet sheen reflecting the glow

Hiding in the dark void, a comforter of white billows over the ground

Adding scattered starry sparkles that have fallen from above

The thin opening in the front window pulls cool breezes inside

To the accompaniment of an occasional slushy traveler on the street

Not the harshness of winter’s voice and frigid wrap

Just a simple spring storm, led by gentle drops that became crystal wings

Spinning toward the ground beneath the black gray abyss above.

Raucous noise

Rolling thunder out the front window right now,

unusual fall thunderstorm building in strength

rattling the windows and filling the darkened sky with raucous noise and sparks of light

as the ground fills with the first significant rainfall in weeks.

Unmistakable aroma of wet earth and rain fill the breeze

working its way through the open window while the thunder deepens...

a lullaby for tonight's dreams...

For a short time

He came home and closed the door behind him,

To shut out the world for a short time,

Turned off the phones, unplugged the PC,

Crawled into his favorite chair with a bottle and a glass,

A playlist of oldies spinning on low in the background,

To watch the evening turn slowly to nighttime,

To sort through the clutter in his mind and heart,

To drift away through memories and images,

To wait for the rise of a new day,

To shut out the world for a short time…

The liquor was bitter and unfulfilling,

He set aside the glass unfinished,

To concentrate on the chaos filling his mind,

As the night’s dark blanket enveloped the room

His consciousness began to melt away,

The storm of thoughts relinquishing their hold,

Eventually surrendering to the darkness and fatigue,

To shut out the world for a short time…

Morning’s sun filtered through the front window,

Waking from the fitful coma still sunken in the chair,

He threw off the fog of sleep rising slowly to meet the new day,

The commotion and confusion of the evening

Replaced by the physical discomforts of age and heat

Turning off the hiss of the amplifier he wondered

What will this day bring?

He only wanted to shut out the world for a short time…

Sunday morning Out the Front Window

It’s nearly the middle of the morning, brilliant sunshine and pale blue skies have brought on the day. Lost in the morning activities the changes outside catch your eye; it’s time to relax for a few moments and gaze out the front window. The thick blanket of white that covers the front yard is beginning to sink to the contour of the earth.

The grayish planks of the front walk are dry; the tumbled stacks of snow along its edges seem to guard the corridors of passage. Icicles hanging from the eves reflect the sun from their frozen crystal shapes while a constant flow of droplets begin to fall from their sharp tips.

The air is clean, crisp, no longer the harsh stinging cold that revealed your breath hours earlier. The radiance of the sun warms the south facing surfaces while the shadows hold on to the chill of the winter day.

Images of winters long gone by slip silently into your mind. Snow ball fights with your brothers, lopsided snowmen sentinels built with leather mittens, ruddy red cheeks and dripping noses, admonishments for tracking snow across the carpet. The acrid flavor of your coffee momentarily changes to a sweet chocolate taste. The urge to abandon the morning chores and step outside to play grows inside; soon to be subdued by more mature impulses.

Turning from the window you leave the enticements behind with a shrug, in favor of more noble behavior…

Winter Day Outside

It’s a truly winter day out the front window.
The afternoon air is frigid, the landscape lifeless and uninviting. The sky above is covered by a dull grey layer without even a hint of the sun. Off in the distance small scraps of washed out blue teasingly rest along the horizon.

Abruptly the wind intensifies and the marbled grey sky turns darker, heavier and ominous. Quickly hordes of primal crystals fill the air, stampeded along by the frozen air currents. The nearly blinding mass is made of small, agile, pellet like flakes that rush their way to the ground. Spun and jumbled, scattered seemingly without purpose they quickly cover the freezing earth.

Menacingly the storm builds, forcing a feeling of gloom and forewarning. Now the air is filled with the small hardened shapes dancing in all directions. The arrogant squall of winter weather eventually marches on, leaving its remnants behind as a display of its dominance.

No gentle fall of fluffy crystals, no hope of gathering handfuls for play, no brilliant sunshine in its wake. Just the raw cold power of a bleak and forbidding nature, leaving an inhospitable and desolate feeling behind.

Turn from the window with a shudder in search of warmth and security, surely the sun will shine tomorrow?!?

December 23rd

The daylight is waning; the perception of warmth is dying with it
Stalactites seem to hang precariously from the edge of the roof
Their incessant dripping halted for the next few hours of darkness
While the craters in the snow beneath them form crystallized cups
Eager to hold the next day’s catch, liquefied by the sun’s radiance
Snow still covers the ground, now in a dusky yellow-grey color
Mimicking the diluted palate that veils the western edges of the sky
The dark scraggy branches of the trees dissolve into the murkiness above
Soon points of light begin to appear scattered loosely across the heavens
Then filling the void between them countless smaller specks come alive
The night sky glimmers and glitters like snowflakes in the moonlight
Turning from the front window the flickering Christmas candles and lights replace the stars
Filling the room with fragrances of pine and cinnamon while tinsel sparkles amidst the needles
Warming the room while foretelling the coming holiday celebration