The hobnail feet of Winter
mash us into slush
as if to press iced wine
from our broken skins
a crush on spirits
of summer love
tasted, stripped
just off the vine
sleet’s sharp rhythm
in robes of immaculate white
dancing
on our graves
Quadrille for dVerse
Oh my gosh, this is just gorgeous:
“as if to press iced wine
from our broken skins”
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Thank you!!
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‘The hobnail feet of Winter’ is just how it feels! My fingers and toes are frozen and the skin on my hands is broken. I also love the lines:
‘as if to press iced wine
from our broken skins’.
You’ve (hob)nailed it!
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Thank you! Yes I felt crushed and broken by this first storm, lol!
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Such a dreary tread in these cold boots! And I complain of Florida’s plush elven booties.
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Lol! Great – plush elven booties. Definitely felt like we got stomped by the Orc army here.
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Nice description of sleet as wearing robes of immaculate white.
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Cheers! The nightmare vintage 🙂
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Ahahaha! Thanks.
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🙂
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If only it could be a reward such as iced wine, yet not leave us wasted.
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Perfect.
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And yet there is nothing sweeter than the precious drops of ice wine.
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Ah, yes, that is true too, and I hold my tongue out to catch the first snow crystals that fall every year.
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This is wonderful, so many really great–palpable–images (excuse the drooling jealousy). Visceral. And I learned what “hobnail” means.
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Normally would be hob nail boots, but I thought the feet of winter were spiked enough bare, lol!
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A really great visual ending with the sleet in immaculate white robes dance on graves~
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I like every line of this excellent poem. You conjure such vivid images and feelings with it.
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This is so vivid, and the sound of it is like sleet hitting a window.
This is wonderful: “as if to press iced wine
from our broken skins”
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Thanks!
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Spirit
Snow
Colden
Warming
Going Now
Still Coming
Breathe
Flakesin’
Wonder
Lands or
Fallen’ Wind..:)
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Love the double entendre of spirit and the images of red and “immaculate white.” The last few lines make it seem the ‘immaculate heart’ is rejoicing in our loss of spirit.
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Yes, that was very much what I was aming for. Joyous in its own expression of season too, unconcerned with us, if not pure enjoyment of the outcome.
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Late to the reading…apologies! How can I get so busy? Didn’t even get posted for Tuesday or Thursday! But — glad I got to read this. You’ve described the different machinations of the winter season so well here. Somehow, Winter mashing us into slush and crushing our spirits of summer love should be negative and dire….but this makes me smile. For me, it’s like Winter is personified into a young kid who is taking complete joi de vivre, splashing in puddles! 🙂
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Thank you! Yes, I thought there was joy in the dance, even if it is us underfoot.
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I love “hobnail boots of winter.”
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Especially this morning, right?
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⛄️
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