POETRY

Though the weather today was sublime, 60 degrees with scattered sun, I came across a poem I wrote one bestially cold night, first sipping wine then rum. I figure there are a few romantic saps out there who secretly read poetry in dark basements to candle light. It is on those cold blistery nights when the wife is working and the tot is counting sheep when I pull out my old Anthology of poems from numerous poets compiled over the last 300 plus years, pour myself some wine, sit back in my recliner and read. Eventually when I am good and drunk and feeling ambitious I grab a notebook and a pencil and begin to scrawl. The poem I have for you I wrote while sitting outside in near sub-zero temperatures for effect. I wanted it to be as authentic as possible.

GOODBYE WINTER

Written November 28, 2010 at 1:40 am., high in mountains

My bones are chilled beneath chapped skin

my fingers stiff as carrot sticks

the frigid night warms my ears

the wind it howls, pierces and pricks

An inch of wine remains in my glass

An ounce of sleep in my eyes

A day of reckoning is due

The whippoorwills to cold to fly

Goodbye winter, you bastard ruse

And trick us with sweet pumpkin pie

If I play your game I'm sure to lose

So I'm heading to Florida or Kadoesji