Winter

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Winter

Maybe it will snow.
Maybe it won’t.
Either way the dark will snatch more and more of the day,
more than its fair share,
more than the accepted amount,
leaving us leaning into hibernation,
unable to disentangle ourselves from our blankets,
lacking all interest in rising and shining,
too tired to hope,
until finally,
spring fights back.

 

Tabatha Yeatts organized a wonderful winter poem swap and sent the image above for inspiration. Monet’s painting and the gray winter skies inspired the poem above and a few more that were equally dark. My family told me in no uncertain terms that the poems I was writing were too depressing for a gift, so I went back to the drawing board for a slightly more positive spin on the season. If you’re curious to see it, Tabatha has it on her blog. Thank you to Tabatha for organizing another wonderful swap and for allowing me to vent and then find a more positive outlook.

For more Poetry Friday, visit Diane at Random Noodling.

Happy Holidays!

Liz

16 replies
  1. Lara says:

    Liz – I often feel that way about winter, especially here in New England, where we seem to get less light than you do in DC. I will say, up here we use the darkness to create our own light. So I see that photo, and think of a blazing fire. And a good friend. Which makes me hopeful. Come visit!

  2. Bridget Magee says:

    Venting is important and your poem speaks to many during these dark winter months. I especially like the line:
    “unable to disentangle ourselves from our blankets” – we have been in this situation this week as the temperatures have been in the 20’s(!) in the morning (in Tucson!!!). Happy holidays to you and yours, Liz. Thanks for the gift of your poetry. 🙂

    • Liz Steinglass says:

      So that’s where our cold weather has been hiding! Sorry, we can take it back now. We have very confused trees wanting to bloom.

  3. Buffy Silverman says:

    I’m not sure I agree with your family’s judgement…your ending is pretty hopeful. Love the image of the dark snatching more than its fair share. (But I don’t share your winter view…It is just starting to snow right now, and I am hoping for some winter white.)

    • Liz Steinglass says:

      The problem here is that we can’t rely on the snow to come and console us for the dark and the cold.

  4. Alice Hollinbeck says:

    I really like this poem, especially “the dark will snatch more and more of the day.” I happen to like winter and the long nights. I sleep so much better. Thanks for another lovely poem.

  5. Tabatha says:

    I am one of those rare birds who likes winter (maybe because the ones here are not generally as ferocious as the winters that some people face), so I appreciate that you conjured up your most positive feelings about it for me :-)!

  6. Linda Baie says:

    You may be the first to begin that talk and yearning for spring, even before the new year! I love the idea of not wanting to disentangle from the blankets. I do like the winter and the dark, but it is not so easy to rise without the sun. I love this, Liz, and your poem for Tabatha too.

  7. Violet Nesdoly says:

    This line caught my attention on first read-through: “Either way the dark will snatch more and more of the day,” Indeed! But, in two days, the light starts snatching the day back. I too have a love-hate relationship with winter and am so glad it has its limits.

  8. cvarsalona says:

    Elizabeth, I like both versions of your winter poem. While I am still trying to launch Autumn’s Palette, I am thinking that you might like to send one of the poems in for the next gallery on winter.

  9. Joyce Ray says:

    Liz, it was a real challenge to write to Monet’s Train in Snow! Both your poems are wonderful interpretations. I admire your persistence in trying to craft a more “hopeful” poem, which you certainly achieved. I’m glad we got to see both!

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