Writing 210: Poetry. Today the word is Fog, make it an Elegy, and use metaphor.
Lament for Summer
Follow footprints in the snow where the dog has been playing.
Tugging on gloves, re-wrapping scarf over mouth.
Breath rising in clear air. Around the house corner on up the hill
Breath, breathe, heart beating comes to consciousness.
Each breath labours to hear its own continuance.
A cold body listens to its own work.
A dog happily muzzles snow for a buried toy.
Imagine a present only. No spring. No summer.
No hot sand flying under deep delving paws.
A dog’s life indeed.
Indoors, briefly blinded by steamed up lenses
The warm fug of radiant heat rising from the floor
Imagine summer. Strip off these boots and pants
Step out of thermals. Feel skin open to sunshine.
Champagne bubbles burst. Blurred vision, roof snow
flying west with the wind. Golden days are gone.
Happily make tea, mull over memories.
Follow my footprints where I have played
tugging heartsrings, re-telling stories.
It passes fast, indeed.