If I Ignore it, Maybe it will Hurry Away

It's gotten cold enough for ice to clot
The Elkhorn River.  I can see it clearly
Now.  In summer, it's obscured by leaves,
But, at this point, in mid-November,
Death and wind have sent them flying.
Autumn's histrionics, its so gaily
Shrouded leaves and afternoons which
Mimic summer's, seem to have been
Curtailed quickly by a winter which
Won't wait.  I'm not ready for it yet,
So I turn from the freezing river
Toward the histrionic paintings
Of the Fauves, those wild beasts.
I view them from beneath a blanket,
Yawning uncontrollably.  Perhaps,
The best escape from winter is to
Take a nap.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 19 times
Written on 2022-11-18 at 20:25

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
I ignore it too and couple that with several layerings on and off depending on its response. We get through somehow.