Archive for March 24th, 2013

March 24, 2013

Winter Blue

The winter of my youth was always blue and vacant.

Dim and neglectful, the sun veiled his secrets,

Forgetting about me – the summer boy.

Instead, the moon was my blue sun.

Funny that the moon shines brighter on a winter’s night,

Than the sun on a winter’s day.

In the day snow is tinted in a powder blue.

But at night the blues are richer, quieter, lonelier.

On those nights,

I would stand in the middle of a field,

A baseball field hidden underneath the snowdrifts.

I stared beyond the thinning film of boyhood into crisp constellations of midnight blue.

I searched to see where my whys would go.

I thought they would find their way to the sun,

Where he was warming the faces of other lost boys like me.

I waited for an answer in the winter blue.

As I looked back at my juvenile footprints in the moonlit snowpack,

Bordered in a blue so restless,

Formed by the weight of my precocious feet,

The unsatisfied prints deepened with each returned why.

Moon, Konishima 1922 (PD-1923)

Moon, Konishima 1922 (PD-1923)


Art & Writing Services


Where one writer and observer of the human condition shares what she's reading, writing, and thinking...

At The Wellhead

Soundings From a Protean Aquifer

%d bloggers like this: