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Gay Writes

Winter turns to spring

by Ked Kirkham

Two Winter Poems

One
I taste the lake
Slightly on my lips,
Carried with rain
On a warm wind
From west and south.
Bitter, briny, but still
Comforting;
It is my lake.
Now I want to taste the island,
My island,
To know it is there
Even in this darkness,
In this blinding rain.

Two
Winter thaw
Measured in depth
And speed
the water races clear
down no discernible slope
from no visible source
but for which
the cold wind vows revenge
and evening colludes
there will be ice here
tomorrow

Light Comes Up
Light comes up,
The soft color of dun.
Snow the color of cloud,
Cloud the color of sky,
Sky of lake,
Water reflecting light.

Light comes up,
Running down walls.
Through curtains like wind,
Changing the color of you
And the space between
Us,
Our light and dark.
You are pink there,
And shiny,
Glistening
water reflecting light
of done,
of satisfied,
of love making. Color comes up
through windows,
light
like snow beneath the sky color.

Lilacs, Suddenly
Lilacs, suddenly!
Color emergent in morning light;
That soft color
And namesake,
Violet just shy of blue,
Lavender just beyond pink,
And white infused still with green.
The petite fluted horns
With voluptuous intensity,
Along the back fence
Edging the garden corner.

These are not for the office complex
Nor the municipal plaza;

No, the lilac is personal.
Intimate
As grandmother’s dressing table drawers,
Secretive as a child’s first bouquet,
Effusive as a girl’s first love.

Lilacs,
neither clinging nor cloying as the wisteria,
They do not shock as the redbud
with limbs thrown about.
Lilacs, suddenly, bear to us
Summer
With a slower pace,
a time and place to sit,
a backdrop to memories we’ll pass around,
a centerpiece in the dining room
wafting fragrance, above the flowers
dropping quietly onto the lace
when we have gone.

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