Tuesday, January 3, 2012



 Washing Dishes
Outside the window the wind tumbles
the sparrows, seizes the leaves in its teeth
and scours the bricks with the bodies
of summer turned autumn gold.

Later tonight I will waken, anxious

in the winter dawn, and know briefly that

death is closer than birth and that my past

cradles more years than my future.



Outside now the wind has vanquished
both sparrows and leaves, still

a jay confident in cached nuts
screams defiance at the coming cold.
                                                      
 Guy

4 comments:

Kathiesbirds said...

Guy, you have captured a moment in time so perfectly and reflectively. It is an ominous thing to think that our past cradles more years than our future! I, too, am most likely at that point! I Love this poem Guy!

Guy said...

Hi Kathie

I am glad you like it. I am really happy your feel it captures a moment which is what I wanted to do. I think a lot of us wake up in the dark once in a while surrounded by ominous things even as an adult. Maybe this is part of the life cycle of our childhood nightmares.

Regards
Guy

kerrdelune said...

I know those early moments well, and you have captured them perfectly. A lovely post, and one that may lead me to think of my predawn anxieties a little differently!

Guy said...

Hi Cate

Thanks for your comments I really appreciate hearing what people think of my poems. Predawn anxiety seems to be a common curse, to quote the Berry poem I posted to my other blog I need to emulate the “peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.” But that is easier said than done

Guy