I love visiting this poetry blog and John has been doing some reviews of some of the other poets work shared in our compilation.
I need no photograph to remember you
as you snowshoed that night,
you in the pool of your lamp with me stumping behind,
the cold wrapping around us tighter than the dark,
the snow falling so fast it clacked and flapped
in the otherness that hung all around.
Go before me dearest, go before me,
this trail won’t last forever.
And while I can taste the evening at its end,
I can also hear the voices of our loved ones
calling as ever they did, enigmatically, softly—
but still, calling. So yes, dearest, go before me;
I’d rather you content in the warmth and the glow
than anything I could ever want.
Leave the cold to me, please,
go before me.
The setting for this poem was the wonderful winterscape of Ashland, New Hampshire, where my wife, Lyn, and I took a skiing/snowshoeing vacation some years back. The incident that was the generative spark for this poem was a…
View original post 224 more words