flat Christmas moment – commentary

I have updated ‘flat Christmas moment‘ with two short additional lines. When I wrote the poem, at the very moment of completing the last line, the door did open and my parents returned from their walk in the woods.  I hummed and ha’ed about leaving the moment adrift, or bringing it to the same halt as experienced by the poet.  On balance I think the change of pace of the return of people adds an element of wry humour and a greater sense of reality. After all, the poem is about a moment, not life drifting on forever.

But I am open to new thinking…

winter walk

The trees are dying
Leaves yellow, brown,
drop, rot on paths,
trodden underfoot.

The air is dank,
Sullen November
skies weigh
wearily on the eye.

Passers-by,
preoccupied,
gaze into middle
distance, dodge
all greetings.

The birds have
given up and gone
south; anywhere
but here.

Is this what my
summer beauty has
come to?
Dare I ever hope
for more?