December 01, 2011

December #56

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December #56 
By John R. Greenwood
#56 approaches shadow like
slinking low in the dark damp night
this shivering grey man hangs on 
tight and reluctant 
fuel bill memories smother all hope of advance
snow drift dreams of broken snowblowers and dead batteries
and still
a ceiling stain lingers 
a reminder of #53’s heartless ice dams
heavy and thick
fond recollection of #10’s five dollar lift tickets and deep powder runs
T-bars, rope tows and mom’s hand-knit wool socks
so...
with each opened tote of tangled light and shiny bulb
a fresh scent of balsam 
like smelling salts 
snaps me back 
and I pause
silent
wreath in hand
looking forward to #57

7 comments:

  1. John,

    A most emotive piece of writing. I could sense your looking back...and with great imagery.

    Best Wishes, Eileen

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  2. A fine poem and a really delightful read.

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  3. what a progress.

    interesting thoughts.

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  4. Wonderful memories...this is beautiful!

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  5. Lovely writing, John. It's funny how we remember certain events more clearly the older we get.

    My happiest (childhood) and saddest (adult) memories centre around Christmas, a bitter-sweet time.

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  6. Powerful images and such great imagery!
    Well Done~

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  7. Counting Decembers is a novel approach to viewing this whole season. I read this aloud, and the center of the piece, with its "fuel bill memories," was amazing. Great write! Amy
    http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/12/02/the-day-i-saw-an-angel-fly-lyrics/

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