Monday, November 24, 2008

Sled Ride

This is the first poem I've written in a long time. Reader, she married him.


Two tiny girls,
capped and mittened,
snug in a baby's sled,
Mother's boots squeaking
in the crisp, new snow
as she pulled us along,
down the hill
and through the park,
across the creaky wooden bridge.

The stream trickled slowly
as water stood freezing in the pond.
Bare branches rattled in the ice-blue sky,
clutching at winter as if to hold it close.

Spring was stirring in our mother's frozen heart.
Who was this man we didn't know?
Her smile was warm as April,
her laughter, dazzling as crystals.
Who was this man out walking in the snow?


Eric S. said...

Well done, well done, I like the cold and water freezing yet your mothers heart is in spring. Amazing what love can do for a person. Nice poem.

Ruth Hull Chatlien said...

I like the winter / spring contrast mentioned by Eric. I also liked the references to sounds: squeaked, creaked, rattled. And the way you kept the innocence of the child's point of view, not being able to figure out who the man is.

Good job.

Anonymous said...

Yes, it's a lovely poem, and makes me feel as if I had been there, too. Thanks for sharing it!

Eric Valentine said...

A beautiful poem. One can almost feel how cold it is with the crispness of the snow, and the wind making the branches sway in tune with the creaky old bridge. Very nicely done.. :)

forsythia said...

Thank you all for your comments. I hate to toot my own horn, but I don't know where this poem came from. Suddenly it was there, and I am so pleased. That never happened before. I usually labored a bit over the "pomes" that I am putting in my other blog as I come across them in my old notebooks. These are past attempts that I doubted were really poetry. Thank you for your encouragement.