Cleaning the Attic

frost-patterns-on-windows-1387971944JG1Again – this is a poem in transition – I started it a few weeks ago on a very cold day. Today it is cold again and I revisited it, working on the warm part of the poem. I am still not happy with the ending or the title but here it is – in process….. Every third year Or When the snow flies off the trees Like white crows Disturbed by wind or intruders bursting up and out; When the doorknob frosts on the inside And bath steam Clings to the window freezing into Tiny rivers meandering always up, Tributaries of ice sparkling like giant snowflakes Caught in the ice age of the storm, In the dark days of winter when shadows Are long at noon, In the blue moon of January I dream of myself as a young woman Walking through damp moss In bare feet. A thicket lit with crepuscular rays; spotlights on fairy rings. The enchanted forest breathes warm soft exhalations Mixing with the must of old paper And India ink. Letters crack at fold lines Splitting the sentences declaring unending love Every day a picnic on the mountain With sardines and red wine Hard cheese on crusty bread cut with pocket knives. The sun burns our skin Frosty paintings melt Running down the glass in drops That sizzle on the wood stove The fire bright and hot Cats sleeping at our feet.


6 responses to “Cleaning the Attic

  1. Really fires up the senses! ❤

  2. Oh dear I am sad if it sounded critical. Not one bit of a mess. I believe we both knew each other on poetry W didn’t we.. I am trying to cheer myself up with silly verse. Here’s one. It might be too Pommy for USA. Any suggestions for a title . This in NOT high art!!! VCB

    My heart leaps up when I behold
    a worn towel on the rack.
    I want a gratifying dry-
    a little roughing up.

    When wrapped, it hides
    all naughty bits
    when I race to answer calls.
    It never ever lets me down .

    Too often though, the towel is new,
    Slick pile of Paris-Hilton thick
    All fluff, faux quality, counterfeit.
    Not up to its thirsty job.

    It wasn’t very long ago
    That cotton kept us dry
    well boiled and rubbed with caustic soap
    Wind- dried to glaring white.

    Give me a keen and hungry towel.
    With pile equipped to desiccate
    when you could see right through
    Not this prickly skim across my skin.

    So was it when my life began
    So is it that now I am.
    And so I would wish your days to be
    blessed with an old towel’s absorbency.

    Vivienne Bibby

  3. hi, gail .. I received the stanza version & hope a bunch of comments from my point of view / vs as authority .. you being that ! is ok ..
    I have never done this before & don’t know the rules

    as a yogurt poet we get together once a month to listen to share and the offer our suggestions to our works in progress.. so in that manner :

    I really love the opening The beginning for me IS “when the snow “.. terrific .. then I begin to think a line break at the word ‘sparkling’ could work , .. i might tighten the next stanza .. but then .. I get stopped in my tracks by ” crepuscular ” !!.. but I gather myself and go on, and think : I would skip “warm soft exhalations” .. I am right with you after that , and think.. you don’t need the rest of the line after “breathes” … I think you might tinker a bit with the picnic [ bring it together ?]
    despite these comments please know I think you will have a winner !
    and as in ALL comments the WRITER IS the ONE & ONLY one to say how it should be written. love! mary

    • Thank you Mary! I really appreciate your reading and taking the time to comment. Yogurt poets sounds wonderful – to have a place to read and have people really hear what you are writing!

  4. Ah Cleaning the Attic is the name of your blog. I enjoyed the picture you paint of cold I have not known Is this a prose poem. Are you interested in comments . Well I shall dare and say if you used less gerunds meaning “ings” it would make the work tighter .That said I did get caught up in the read . I’m an old writer myself. .How about make the title “Like White Crows.?” That would work for me.. Best Vivienne Bibby

    • Ha! Vivienne – Great to hear from you! What a mess that last poem was – it posted with no line breaks! I obviously have to be more careful. Thank you so much for your reading – you are right about my tenses…..I’m out of practice.

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