Frigid Memories

This week’s focus is AIRFrigid

Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay

Frigid, brisk the wind

Winter lives on, somewhere else

Memories shiver:

Crystal February snow

Fell for days, left town breathless

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.

Winter Roses

This is an old one, pulled from my files… E.M.

“Grief is for the strong, who use it as fuel for burning.” 

Lauren Groff, author Fates & Furies

Winter roses, left at her door—

Someone remembered she missed

Him more than ever before…

White petals edged with dusk, dew

Frosted, lying against the snow.

Someone remembered her heart

Was yet aching, still breaking

Though long years had passed

Like tides which continue

Rhythmic washing away of shore.

Someone remembered that no one, now

Would bring her pale roses anymore

White winter flowers, to mark the day—

Someone remembered that he was

All she’d had of love, a tattered dream.

Someone remembered that he was

Pale roses—mere shadow clung to

As she walked the floors of silent dark

In solemn vigil…what did she pray?

What was she waiting, hoping for

Through those hours, nights of her life?

Someone remembered her—clouded

Child of autumn beauty she’d been—

How she breathed the peppery perfumed

Roses…smiled when he said, “come away.”

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.


February’s Winter

You know those days when you’re

Convinced you’ve gotten away easy

Dodged one of Life’s bullets?

There’s a mix of gratitude for faith proven

And complacency; a delicious sweet relief

An almost giddy joy ready to rise and

Percolate through your marrow…

And then “it” happens.

IT was merely “winter”…in my relatively

Temperate neighborhood (Pacific NW, USA).

We’d had no white Christmas, January

Had skated by without snowfall or

Hazardous ice to ratchet up my fear of

Falling, keep me housebound… And perhaps

Some instinct had moved my slow bones

To stock the larder anyway, and catch up

The laundry, which requires going outside to

The separate building housing our facilities.

I was enjoying the happy peace of any

Accomplishments ageing has not yet stolen;

Eager to cook a pot of creamy potato soup

With bacon, and settle into another

Patricia Highsmith novel… “Ripley”, her

Sly-scheming character who can escape

All but suspicion from multiple murders!

I’d paid no mind to the forecasts of

Possible snow…there had been nary a

Cloud, and temps remained comfortable

For this fat-insulated body.

Habit of curiosity, I glanced out the

Bedroom window, and oh…such a sight:

Belated Christmas card’s winter wonderland

Delight (my quite uncharacteristic response).

Silent snow, meringue-whipped white, fell

With determination of workers pressing

Toward deadline, the boss’s frown leaning

Weighty shadow over their shoulders.

For several days the sky was a burst

Bag of sugar spilling winter, undeniably

Pretty as it accumulated soft, heavy

Bringing normal activity for many to a halt:

Traffic, a horror; schools, workplaces closed.

Yet, soon I was itchy to take my chances—

Abandoning year-round sandals, I hunted

Packed away boxes for shoes with some

Semblance of tread.  I donned gloves

Pioneer attitude, grabbed cane and bested

The hill for “just in case” groceries.

It was challenging for most—our area

Isn’t well prepared, experienced with

Snowfall:  the county plows roads

And dumps their work onto sidewalks

Blocking some residential driveways.

Thus, pedestrians had to manage mute

Mountains of muddy sand-mixed snow.

There wasn’t garbage pick-up, no one

Could get in or out of our parking lot.

As melting began the cycle of

Slush-turned-to-ice-melt-freezing again

I congratulated myself for not submitting

To panic, depression in chilled isolation.

I mourned only the single silly cherry

Tree which every year puts out blooms

Too early, then freezes… And laughed at

Intrepid high-stepping crows.

Brief flurries teased last Sunday’s dawn…

But surely the surprising, sparkling

White wonderland is over for this year 🙂.

©Ennle Madresan, 2019 ~ All rights reserved.