The Ninth Decade: A Chill Across My Back
LXXXI
The cold is biting through my coat today,
I feel the chill that rides upon the wind;
The sting of winter blowing in its sway,
An even colder age seems to begin.
I pull my jacket tighter ‘round my chest,
In hopes of closing out the cold around;
I hope that soon the winter finds its rest,
Instead the wind persists in howling sound.
I still hold fast against the freezing chill,
And stand up in the face of winter’s roll;
And even though it beats upon me still,
Surviving is my all-consuming goal.
This winter’s harsh, and steadfast in its press,
But here I am, awaiting its regress.
LXXXII
I see bright patches in between the clouds,
The sun beyond refusing to be dulled;
It’s luminescent ‘neath these winter shrouds,
And still is shining, though this day has lulled.
And though it shines and lights beyond the haze,
Its warmth has still diminished in the fog;
So as the world awaits the brighter days,
The chill is constant under murky smog.
And while some feel refreshed by winter’s chill,
Delighting in the absence of the light;
Most others tremble in the waiting still,
All frozen in th’ encroaching of the night.
See all the people in this world of dun,
Awaiting the returning of the sun.
LXXXIII
I do not like the feeling that I get,
When passing by the road to your front door;
It comes despite the fact my mind is set,
To drop you from my mem’ry ever-more.
The place still sends a chill across my back,
Whenever journeys have me pass it by;
The sorrow then begins a sneak attack,
Commencing with a long and sullen sigh.
You see, the pain, it never really leaves,
It stands diminished, yes, but still in place;
But even as it wanes while soul but grieves,
It oft lays waiting for its horrid chase.
That burden brings to bear a heavy load,
Amazed am I—it waits right by your road.
LXXXIV
I huddle at the heater to stay warm,
The sky outside is still a biting blue;
And storm-clouds out on each horizon form,
I know that colder fronts will soon ensue.
I seek out any refuge I can find,
Preparing for the soon-in-coming cold;
Some haven here, where I can ease my mind,
Protection somewhere from the winter bold.
And yet, there is familiarity,
In witnessing this winter’s slow encroach;
I know them all too well, the sights I see,
That chilly sky and grayest clouds’ approach.
So I await the winds and bitter snow,
And find myself amidst the cold I know.
LXXXV
And as the sun returns to warm the earth,
I still can feel a chill upon the air;
But yet the sun will shine for what it’s worth,
To break the spell of winter’s bleak despair.
The clouds are now no more than wisps of white,
No longer casting shadows on the ground;
For up above, the sun is burning bright,
And shining luminescent all around.
The chilliness still lingers with the sun,
As winter’s berth has not yet passed away;
But I will wait ‘til colder days are done,
And warmer weather comes again to stay.
Although the ides of winter are not passed,
I know this bitter season will not last.
LXXXVI
So I am left alone here in the dark,
And yes, I feel abandoned in the cold;
I glance around while searching for a spark,
Darkness still reigns here, as it has of old.
Suppression of the light continues hence,
Here still I sit, amidst the deep despair;
Even though here I’ve never pitched my tents,
Long have I sat in this place, far from fair.
Over the hills—to travel far I long,
Viewing these lovely lands from far away;
Elation’s what I long for—that sweet song,
Death is all I am promised if I stay.
My wish to leave is nothing but a lark,
Even so, I am trapped here in the dark.
LXXXVII
And then I hear the patter of the rain,
Inhaling scent of contact with the ground;
It’s come to wash the world clean again,
Arriving hence with such a soothing sound.
The chill is soon forgotten in the splash,
The rain can wash the bitter cold away;
And thunder punctuates this tempest’s crash,
A bold announcement of this heav’nly spray.
I catch the first few drops upon my head,
And then I feel it soak across my back;
In its descent, so much is left unsaid,
But my day brightens as the skies turn black.
The pouring rain is driving, driving still,
Yet somehow it has lifted winter’s chill.
LXXXVIII
Now with the feel of verdant spring’s approach,
The bite of winter’s chill begins to lift;
And as the warmth and longer days encroach,
Between myself and cold there grows a rift.
And as the warmer days stretch long and blue,
The cold diminished as the sky goes bright;
And ground absorbs the warm ‘neath vivid hue,
I keep my eyes above, embracing light.
Yet still my mind, it often travels time,
Refusing to forget the chill I’ve felt;
And while perhaps the days have grown sublime,
The past is always there, with what it’s dealt.
And since I can’t go back and change the past,
Its cold effect on me shall ever last.
LXXXIX
I still can feel the chill from darkness past,
When once it would encroach across my back;
For though its presence gone, its touch is vast,
And its effect on me I’ll never lack.
The day is gone when such a feeling foul,
Oppressed upon me with its brutal claw;
But still I feel the echoes of its yowl,
Though I’ve escaped that all-consuming maw.
But I cannot dismiss the feeling still,
Because of its effect upon my self;
By so ignoring such a bitter chill,
I relegate what I’ve become to shelf.
So I will not discount what I’ve become,
By blocking out the chill that change is from.
XC
The sun’s upon my back these warmer days,
And up above the sky is pale blue;
It’s hardly broken by the cloudy haze,
And so I feel refreshed somehow, and new.
A gentle breeze, it blows in with the spring,
It’s caught so softly in the palms of trees;
It helps to cool the heat the sun will bring,
And with this weather fair, I am at ease.
So here I sit, reflecting on what’s been,
A bitter cold that brought me to this place;
From out that test, a new day I have seen,
And here I feel the sun upon my face.
While I am left with mem’ry of the chill,
These warmer days will last, persisting still.
