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fireflys in winter








how cursed a cold night
void of light spectacle
and how stunning it would be; tiny wings flitted above a dry cough of snow

she remembers their dance, stilled now
inside leaf litter and animal trench

 

and considers the chemical explosions subdued
inside cracks and crevices of soil and broken tree bark

and although admired; the moon with all his cold brilliance

still she yearns


summer's movement

the lip-smack of leaves

the howl of awake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

m

Author notes

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Comments

1 - 37 of 37

  • Tony goodwin
    5 hours ago
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    Artistic

    Almost abstract in its structure, yet held together by a superb choice of words.
    A very Autumnal work that creates a vivid but bleak landscape of longing.
    Well written.
    Cheers Tony


  • sgking123 gold member
    February 1
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    Edit | Reply

    gosh

    i think this was a very intense poem about an idea that was taken up on an abstarct plane..I love dthe choice of words and the fact that you chose to convey it all in so simple a manner

  • Judith Chandler
    January 30
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    I like the imagery and word usage. "Fireflys" should be "fireflies".

    Nice write.

  • Namita
    January 29
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    images...dang. this is excellent imagery.


  • and so on
    January 4
    Edit | Reply
    nice use of words. feels a gentle wind


  • ccawley gold member
    December 31, 2009
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    Great as always!!


  • nutmegg
    December 30, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    =]


  • truembrace silver member
    December 14, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    I could come back daily or weekly, this time more than monthly to say the least -- always to find the strongest of poems/verses to fall within your pages.

    The concept of fireflies in winter is one that is so strong to start with that there is no way for this poem to fall short with any of its qualities from the 'get-go'.


  • Rick Weston silver member
    November 25, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    stunning work. i really like this!! it is suppose to snow a bit here tomorrow, a firefly or two would be nice.

    nicely done.


    • Cat gold member
      November 25, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      i just looked to see where you are... they are calling for snow in Indiana??? what?... i wonder if Michigan is getting some too..
      thanks for the kind words..

      m


  • Grunts Girl silver member
    November 24, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    i think of our dance...
    paul and i before he left would dance a lot outside by the firepit after dinner on the patio under that moon....
    funny how i wish for seasons....
    there are no fireflies here
    just lizzzzzards on my shower head that jump me and make me run around the house covered in suds screaming


    • Cat gold member
      November 25, 2009

      Edit | Reply
      and you just started the next poem



      there are no fireflies here

      just lizards
      and cliffs
      and a danceful moon

      paul is not here either

      but oh that moon


  • Emmyb gold member
    November 21, 2009
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    amazing cat x x


  • Ariosto II. gold member
    November 20, 2009

    Edit | Reply
    Takes all seasons doesn't it.
    Fireflys in Winter would be pretty amazing. I rmember a Fellini film where Peacocks were running around in a courtyard full of snow.
    Great image, his
    and yours

    d


  • poetryality silver member
    November 19, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    Beautiful! A classic work of poetry.


    Renee


  • porksnorkel
    November 18, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    aces


  • When it rains.xx
    November 18, 2009
    Edit | Reply
    Wonderfully Written!!


  • Jersene gold member
    November 18, 2009

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    everyone else has already picked out my favourite lines, so I'll just remark on your brilliant penning....love the thought of fireflies in winter


  • Balldinger silver member
    November 18, 2009

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    more seasons...

    entrenched in the dogma of arborphilia, a wooded nymph can personalize an exposé of non-respondent victims of wood. where fireflies dance, the lamplight shines bright in red wine shadows, immersed in stranger behavior than island drifters might allow, had their shift in the blown snow left them wilted, grieving or stained. I admire your mother earth references and your lippity slick measures that smack them so well...


  • Disturbed Prodigy
    November 17, 2009

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    lol, sorry read the thing over the comments, but i like the way this poem dances in my mind, beautifully keep it flowing.


  • Peteskid gold member
    November 17, 2009

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    something about a summer night that holds so much life, sparkled, aromatic, and while these things persist through cold, its a different flavor, so true, i like this a lot...PK


  • Pure Thought
    November 17, 2009
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    I like the poets yearnings and how it was written.

    Well done.
    Buddy

  • Pure Thought
    November 17, 2009

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    I like what she still yearns for and how the poem explains it.
    Well done.


  • tara wilson gold member
    November 17, 2009

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    I love the lip-smacked leaves so much. beautiful poem, wonderful close, love the whole poem but especially that powerful ending.


  • AJ Morelli gold member
    November 17, 2009

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    you are just so damn good...


    so good it makes me jealous and want to write like you when i grow up (emotionally )

    great work, as always


    al

    • Cat gold member
      November 17, 2009
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      Don't be stupid. . Do you like it for the book?


      • AJ Morelli gold member
        November 17, 2009
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        lol... i'll try

        i do like it for the book, of course you not only have to look at each poem for its individual merit but also how it fits with the theme and the poems that surround it... but i can easily see this fitting in


  • YungFreck
    November 17, 2009
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    I am impressed...

    This is beautiful..


  • Night Hope gold member
    November 17, 2009

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    This is simply stellar writing, Mary. Just...stunningly good.


  • tomisb silver member
    November 17, 2009

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    How subtle, this expression of rage and anger found in the third verse. Stated with a clear message of futility and frustration. I can clearly hear the history of rites around fires to make sure that spring sprung and summer returned. Winter in its February marks us all with a sense of subtle despair that it shall never end and we can only garner ice and reap the rime and whiteness of nothing.

    The opening lines catch the yearning and foretell of the inner rage. The firefly becomes larger for what is symbolizes than it seems such a small light could hold. Winter, come she will, I can hear the howls that regret how she marries herself in a false white promise to the earth. But, I am richer for the poem and though I may feel sorrow at your suffering to find the fruits that seeded this poem. Happy I am to read it.

    Peace,
    Tom B.


  • Rowan gold member
    November 17, 2009

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    fantastic.
    I love your author notes... lol.
    "the howl of awake"
    wow.


  • Thomas Scott gold member
    November 17, 2009

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    Some succulent lines here - "...the lip=smack of leaves," "... the howl of awake,"
    " ... a dry cough of snow" ...
    A pleasure reading you.

    Tom

    • Cat gold member
      November 17, 2009
      Edit | Reply
      love the word succulent

1 - 37 of 37