The dew isn't frozen for a change,
each step leaves a dark hole,
a trail to my soggy shoes.
Once again,
I stand at the old wooden shed door
with a bent, rusty key
that no longer turns the stuck lock.
It would be easy to break in.
Inside,
the axe,
the scythe,
the shears,
all in need of sharpening.
I'm not ready yet.
Written for Poets and Storytellers #246 – spring. Look at that. I actually wrote a seasonal poem.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
A powerful poem. We all feel that tension within ourselves—the struggle to thaw our inner selves and confront what awaits us.
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Thanks Suman 🙏
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I know that feeling! Thank you.
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Sometimes we have to consider the chain reaction that a process sets off. And decide whether it is worth it or not. Cheers Cosmo 🙏
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And what a seasonal poem! Right at the turn of the season. Very vividly recreated, both physically and emotionally.
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Thanks Rosemary 🙏 I hate seasonal poems in general – yet here I am! Haha!
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Don’t worry, it’s very much not the general sort of seasonal poem, lol.
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It is always a good idea to step back – to find firm ground in the earth – to be – despite – just because – I admire your words – Jae
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Well…I’d rather just pay someone to take care of our garden! 😁 Thanks Jae 🙏
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a powerful yet scary picture
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🙏
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I love the vividness of this piece and stand with you at the door. 🙂
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Thanks Penelope 🙏
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Ah that last line, wonderful reflection.
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Thank you Paul 🙏 I’ve been trying to emulate your format somewhat recently. Short, punchy lines that quickly boil ideas down to their basics. Thanks for the inspiration.
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