Winter Clouds

These weeks have been a year

The clouds have never broken.

Spring and autumn

Go uncertain

Through an ever changing sky.

And out here by the weir

Where the autumn's dream's were opened,

I stare, spring thaw

And hoping

Back, into your frosted eyes.

Clouds and winter colours;

Late-November shrouds

Like evening mist

Or ash and dust

Swirl beneath the layer of ice

That glazes the tips of your irises.

I listen hard for the creak

Of a dying freeze,

Relieving the strain

Holding sky and ocean down -

But expectancy is vain.

The look breaks of a gust

Of chill wind,

Cruel and ill,

Spreading winter clouds across the sky again.

Author's Note

Does the second stanza flow alright? I worry that it's a bit clumsy.. Is 'chill wind/cruel and ill' a bit cheap? Also, I learned after having written this that I have in fact pronounced the word 'iris' wrong my whole life. Is it sitting alright as it is, though?

Reviews

[Alex]

I really like it, do you really need to change it? I don't know why but the only two words that don't seem to 'fit', words that jumped out as not wanting to be on the page with the other words, were weir and irises. Have no idea why!!! But I do really like it, it's a sad one this really comes across. Your writing is very descriptive. Thank you.

Alex

[A.A.]

You're very perceptive.. Haha. Those two words are only in there for sentimental reasons. The poem was written for a friend, so some stuff made it in that maybe doesn't make sense to others. Thank you; I'll have to rethink that.

[icelandicblue]

This is actually quite haunting. I love the cadence of the piece and how you depict those eyes. Honestly I wouldn't change a thing. There is something hypnotic in this poem.

[A.A.]

Thank you for a kind review.