Twiglet #156


the winter fields
are flat and cold
snow clouds stretching
long as banners

Dad hated this time of year.
He’d come home, and soak
his feet in a dishpan of hot
water and epson salts..
He was a postman.

this weather rushes
on us with its wild eyes
ice pecking our face

I always think of Dad at this
time of year. And now I also
think of Mum. Both gone.

cold is a colour
it’s abstract and
absolute, it sinks
in the ground



Twiglet #156 Tails like banners. ©️ Misky 2019

3 responses to “Twiglet #156”

  1. Beautifully penned Misky, the energetic imprint your parents left in the Winter landscape and in your memories are so delicately interwoven 💜

    Liked by 1 person

  2. love this remembrance

    Liked by 1 person

  3. It seems the winters have gotten colder with less snow – at least where I am.
    I remember the joke that our parents used to tease us with about walking to school in the snow and home – up hill both ways!

    cold can be abstract and solid – I didn’t go out except to feed the birds and get my mail… (I’m in a suburb where our mail boxes are at the curb by our driveways…)


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