Winter: A Cold Muse
You know winter’s starting to get on your nerves when a lot of your poems deal with dark and vengeful images of the white stuff. I’m not a winter person at the best of times. The snow in the Peace Country (where I live, in northern British Columbia) is usually dry and won’t even make a good snowman. But we do get Chinooks (warm winds, look it up) that occasionally soften the snow a bit and artistic expression happens, generally with snowmen posed in ‘Calvin-esque’ positions of expiration, complete with twig ‘x’es for eyes.
I can’t say I recall ever writing an upbeat winter poem. Perhaps I should have go at that one day, or maybe just move somewhere warmer, sigh.
Anyway, I’m going to post a poem called “Winter Comes”. It evolved with ‘crime scene’ imagery quite unintentionally. I guess I sometimes feel it’s a crime how long winter drags on so perhaps that was at the back of my mind.