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Of Thawing Thighs and Melting Pot by Cathy Delaleu
Monday, January 29, 2007
Rated "PG" by the Author.
The winter blues
The winter of buffalos crawled upon us
My body was immune to the frozen sun
Old familiar sights were heard echoing in this wilderness
My heart soared with their visions, family and friends all sacrificed by this winter solstice
The capricious snow was now my messenger
Waiting for my time to abandon this earth
As the sun hid behind mountainous peaks
The moon and stars collaborated
Sending the fraudulent wind to quarrel with the evening dawn
Making me weak as I hugged obediently to my lambskin overcoat
The howls of wolves bewitched the fortress
I was unguarded and pleasureless
Closing the curtain of my eyes
Giving a resigned sigh, I laughed softly to myself
Depending on death to gratify my soul
The ritual dreams pawed in my mind
A shadow surveyed my persecution and sang to me
I noticed her resemblance, a midnight shade of molted tar
Her hair flowed thickly like a lioness
My mother was this structural reference
The one who birthed me under an August sun
Promising better days with a stranger as my savior, but of course I didn’t believe her
A pair of warm thick hands covered my cheeks, then my thighs
To my surprise, I have not been put to silence
My icicle tears he wiped and there was a bonfire cheerfully cracking
A pot was simmering, the scent of cornstarch
I was mesmerized by my savior with his eyes of thunder
A bold face with obvious signs of maturity
His vitality unquestionably kept him well-preserved
He fed me while we slipped into many days of certified conversations
My heart skipped with trepidation for my emotions reached an amorous plague
I healed quickly with confirmation, my gratitude illuminated my psyche
He kissed me gracefully with his presence, giving me reason to live again
Offering his arm, I gladly followed and not looking back
As winter’s lecture stubbornly faded, its melting slush seeping on a rusty pot
This is such a nice work of poem...the view of ones journey through life and love is very well expressed...but then you know this...for your work shines from past...
i kept getting lost in your poetic expressions
your writes are amazing.....puts me in mind of
Aberjhani and Nordetta and Walter i wish for you all to get connected
excellent story!!!
This is like looking into a dreamscape right out of a medicine man's bag of mysteries. So real and yet wo mystical it draws the reader into the very soul of the writers mind. Well done for sure.
After losing her boyfriend in a accident, Alecia believe she's been seeing him. But that can't possibly be? When Brayden reveals himself, or his soul, he asks her of a favor. But when that favor leads to her revealing feelings for her dead boyfriends
