The Not Winter

Not part of my collection, just a quick submission...

The wind smells of

frozen milk and carbolic,

this is the edge of December;

a slopping out of leaves

and burnt wood, the overspew

of ovens that keeps

us holding our coats at the throat.

The winter is still out,

we wait for the last bus of snow.

Reviews

[Coyote Song]

Such a brilliant picture of winter you have created. Your words even feel cold. Winter has its on bleak beauty. Love the last line: We wait for the last bus of snow.

[Tina Kline]

This poem brings of the cold winter to life. the cold chill, the holding of one's self tight against the cold, waiting for the snow. Yes, excellent winter poem.

[Tomás Ó C..]

"last bus of snow"... love that imagery... hope you have a lovely Christmas and enjoy the snow!!!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

ooooh "the last bus of snow"

this is so stark naked in its cold imagery...or at least it makes the reader feel that way...reminds me much of Shakespeare's "Winter"---

nicely written..

j.

[Leslie Philibert]

Hallo Jacob !..it is a strange, warm winter, the Alps need snow, my garden needs frost..probably, sadly, climate change...

[Emily B]

we haven't had a real snow yet, but the wood stove is burning

the air is different in winter

[Leslie Philibert]

Hallo Emily..thanks for looking at this. In Bavaria, a strange, warm winter. Something is wrong with our planet, it suffers...

[Emily B]

We had the same warm winter in 1862. Warm rain instead of cold and snow. We have to remember there are cycles.