Day 6 - 1.18.13

Prompt for: January 18, 2013
Subject or Theme: First line for all begins: Celia hesitated
Word(s) to Include: birdbath(s)
Forbidden Word(s): autumn, bird(s), cold(s), colder, grass, ice(y), snow(y), spring, summer, tree(s)
Additional Parameters: include one additional person besides Celia.



Celia hesitated,
eon-ic moment
where inhaled breath
strained lungs
til she expelled it:
white in frigid air.
Wasn't safe beyond the trees.

Longing
for Monet water-color
moment of pastels;
seeing only sharpened black
blanketed in white.

Scarlet flash of cardinal
or was it blood?

Overdue.
Time - each second measured
in thrum of distant guns,
in crack of frozen branch,
in pulse of heart, more
in slow-motion -
stretching moments into quarter hours.
Her ears straining to hear his voice,
eyes, slitted against the dazzle brightness
of a day meant for sharing.
.

Marcel'd gone for food yesterday.
Any food.
Perhaps some forgotten potatoes
in an abandoned garden, or dead
animal not too long gone,
maybe find a derelict shack
with a flour bin not scraped clean.
Last time he'd found a
limp chicken, more feather than bone,
three frozen turnips
and half a corn cob, a few kernals remaining.

Celia turned back,
shoulders slumped
not daring to ponder
if he didn't come home.
She lay on the floor,
meager fire in the box
throwing scant light,
less heat. She wakened,
red-eyed, stiff
as morning light
stained the sky
with crimson.

Framed in the door way,
once more, Celia hesitated.
Brutal wind whipped and wailed.
Yet
in the heartbeat between two gusts
she heard his voice.
He shook his head--
he'd found nothing.

"But look, my love,"
he pointed his fingerless gloved hand.
A robin, perched on the edge
of the broken birdbath,
sang of hope.