It Will Be Winter Soon (A Poem For the Darker Half of the Year)

It will be winter soon.

The cold has arrived, and

ominous white flakes

float the breeze,

like ash on the wind

in Pompeii.

It will be winter soon.

So suffocate your houses

with plastic sheets,

and tack on the lath.

Wrap your windows like Christmas

presents for the dead.

It will be winter soon.

It may come tomorrow,

or it may arrive in

the dead of night.

But when comes, it will be

ivory as bleached bones.

It will be winter soon.

The roads will be choked

with barrels of salt.

Better put chains on those tires.

Better keep some blankets in the back.

Lest you want to curl up with old man Winter . . .

It will be winter soon.

The barren branches stretch

and grasp at the dead white sky.

Tiny flakes drift down like

perfect feathers tickling the ground.

A snowflake is a still drop in an frozen sea.

It will be winter soon.

And the rust never sleeps.

It will eat through your cars.

It will eat through your flesh.

It will sink teeth in your lily white ankle

in December and not let go ’til Spring.

It will be winter soon.

Some of the old shall be snapped,

like a frozen-through pine.

It will put a stop to the young

with a sudden glare of black ice

shining ‘neath a frozen sun.

It will be winter soon.

Haul out the shovels,

and prepare your back for breaking.

Put up a Christmas tree, dazzle your wits

with electric lights and exclaim that they

are better than the sun.

It will be winter soon.

The stars shall shine beautiful,

yet indifferent. People will stay

in their beds and make babies.

Because if it is death outside,

We strive for life inside.

It will be winter soon.

Time for holly jolly.

Time for good cheer.

Because the weatherman says,

all clocks stop now —

Old Man Winter is here.

 

 

Copyright 2019. Tylor James.

4 thoughts on “It Will Be Winter Soon (A Poem For the Darker Half of the Year)

  1. Nice poem! If I were in New York it would totally resonate but, since I’m in California where it’s 90 degrees in November, I can’t relate anymore. But, I still know what Old man Winter feels like. Cool stuff!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Good to hear from you, Josiah! I’m living in North-western Wisconsin these days. Gets mighty cold and snowy here. Oddly enough, after writing this pessimistic poem, I’m sort of optimistic for the winter. Was even listening to Christmas songs the other day. Strange times for me.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks very much, Paul. I hadn’t thought of the relentless aspect of it, but you’re right. My subconscious (or, the ‘boys in the basement’, as bestselling author Stephen King calls it) was heavily at work on this one.

      Like

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