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Rated: E · Poetry · Contest · #1637988
A poem about loneliness in a cold place.
I slip on ice beneath my feet,
Desiring the fire now,
For that sweet, sultry lore of heat,
Can bring me solitary care;
I’ll ease on into my room to-
Day, and turn, should I dare, the card,
And play a game of solitaire,
In a cozy space beyond the yard;
I think that I should not abode,
When wild, winter winds whistle,
To perch on Solitary Road,
I’d rather delight in ember;
I know not if it’s dusk or dawn,
With the sunlight hidden by the snow,
And the trees don’t suffice me much,
They’ve been placed there to block the glow;
The snow crunches crisply under,
My leaden foot by blood and tear,
In the heat, I seek to wonder,
And chance, once more, solitaire;
I break away from bitter white,
And carouse myself through the door,
So I can be sheltered away,
Concealed in solitary lore;
The fire is soothing but too hot,
I’ve bent my brittle deck of cards,
Worn down by solitaire we rot,
My eyes on Solitary Road.
© Copyright 2010 Jay Bradley (jbradley49 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1637988-Solitary-Road