December Moonlight

Scooping the long driveway,
on a cold December night
when the wind’s teeth
are sharp enough to bite
through my fleece-lined jeans
and pierce my down-filled parka.

Poem ideas have drifted
deep as a week of snow
too soft to drive over
with a heavy metaphor,
ergo these verses stuck
spinning in ruts of cliché.

Out comes the moon,
almost full, blue neon
lighting the ghostly night.
I don’t say ghostly
because the light is cold
as a morgue at midnight,

Although the snow
is wind-swept smooth
over the shapes of the land
beneath like a white sheet
over the cadaverous
curves of stiffened flesh.

No, the night is ghostly
because it is lit by
the brown-ringed moon
which reminds me of you,
beautiful and remote,
looking over your shoulder.

It is a kind of déjà vu,
like we have been here
already in a past life,
pain pre-felt, inevitable,
like our lives are written
in sinuous moonshadows.

Advertisements

About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to December Moonlight

  1. A very interesting style.. narrative, almost, interspersed with stark imagery, which allows the creation of a certain ‘wistful’ mood, that makes for good reading.

  2. I’m hopelessly, haplessly lost in your magical images. Thank you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s