It is a bitter wind that blows this day;
I feel it—ay! in mine extremities!
I hear it howling down our quiet streets;
I see the treetops rail against the sky,
And with them wonder when the spring will come.
The first two lines of this came to me several years ago, and have been bouncing around in my head off and on ever since. I wrote the rest a few weeks ago on a cold, blustery day.
I always welcome your comments, critique, suggestions (perhaps of a real title for this poem?), or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you like it, if you don’t like it, if something “works”, if something “doesn’t work”, if it makes you think of something or someone, etc., please comment and say so!) If you like this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday; you can also read other poems I’ve written here on this blog (or if that list is too intimidating, I’m posting more manageable subsets each week, such as yesterday’s installment, so you can just start with those). I’d particularly like to know which poems you think are my best.