come winter

by

Luigi Lalumia

i am so tired of being beat
this damn sun
it's shinning, yellow, glaring, heat
i long for dead leaves dying in color

this chunk of dried, broken dirt
repulses me
dusty, flat suburbia is so
not beautiful
ruts and fumes and track homes

the big bad wolf
where are you?
are you holding old man winter at gun point?

dark and grey
soft formations above head
smooth as frosting in the sky

the cold wind pushes liquid from my eye
it forms a stream but i do not wipe
i let it trickle, tickle
down my cheek, it finds my ear

why won't the earth turn enough and away
from that bastard in the middle?
cold northern
bring me the breath of a snow cap
shoot your freezing blue arrows my way

the weather man is the messenger
he is the knock at my door
bearing the bad news
everyday this pint sized satan
hands me a hot plate, hot tip, hot time

please bring me the words of 30, 40, 50,even 60
let the door open
i welcome a thick, cold gust

i am trying
trying to write my way out
of this wrong
state i'm in

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NEXT?
Why don't you look at If There Is Remembrance
by: Joe Fazio
from: Beverly Hills, CA, US

To visit all of Luigi Lalumia's poems, click HERE

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