“In the hope to meet shortly again, and make our absence sweet.” - Ben Jonson
Oh, what a wintry day today in Melbourne! I was at the train station at 6:30 a.m. and it was still dark. It was very cold and rainy with the wind carrying a hefty chill factor with it. The train station was illuminated brightly in the darkness and a few (fewer than usual!) early morning commuters were braving the cold and darkness, and were waiting for the train with me. The station master at my station is a lovely, elderly man who always smiles and has a cheery word for everyone. He was wearing in his winter gear today, a greatcoat, gloves and a remarkable ushanka making him look quite Russian! Despite the early hour and the cold, wet day his good humour was there. Surely it was sorely needed today, much more so than it is needed on other days.
It was still dark when I got into the City just before seven and there was remarkably little traffic and not too many pedestrians as I walked to work. It seems everyone was luxuriating in their warm bed and putting off their departure from home. While I was standing at the traffic lights, waiting for them to change, I took it all in and it was quite a strong emotive experience while the cold crisp air mingled with my feelings and thought. I mentally jotted down a poem that I wrote down several hours later at the end of the day. Here it is…
Winter
A winter morning:
Cold, wet and the sky blacker now
Than in the dead of night.
The car headlights
Reflected on the moist tarmac;
My breath in steamy clouds,
As I wait to cross the street in falling rain.
A winter morning:
The sidewalk deserted,
Empty, just like my heart.
Your absence lingering
Like the smell of fallen leaves;
Your face, glimpsed as it were,
On a window as a passerby is reflected.
A winter morning:
A steaming cup of coffee
Warming my hand.
Thoughts of our shared breakfasts
Your ardent hand on mine,
The sound of your laughter,
The taste of fresh, warm buttered toast.
A winter morning:
The dawning day, grey and cold
The sun, absent, like you.
I linger expectantly for your return;
Spring thoughts in deepest winter,
Flowers made of the few yellowed leaves
On bare twigs; warmth imagined of our reunion.
What a lovely, wistful poem, all wrapped up in the seasonal elements.
ReplyDeleteIt's so fascinating to me to sit here on the other side of the world and compare as your world goes to sleep and ours springs to life. I love living in a place where seasonal changes are so apparent. I need to complain less about it and really appreciate it.
Thank you for this post that felt almost like being there.
Thanks for the explanation of a winter morning, and how true it all is.
ReplyDeleteloved the four little poems.
l could feel the crispness of the dark early morning..l remember those kind of mornings when l used to work.
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I love the vivid description that precedes your poem, Nicholas. It helps me contextualize it and it as though it involves me in the creative process that formed the poem.
ReplyDeleteThe poem as usual is beautiful and it's wonderful how you have interwoven the seasonal descriptions with the distance of the beloved: Winter-absence; Spring-reunion!