Lost

Blizzard blind,
vision veiled by shades of white.
Snow accumulates,
known markers entombed.
She struggles to remember
through haze of memories,
her life without these days
of whirling, pummeling storms.
Frozen iced in daze.
Time shifts. Skies clear.
Sadly, somewhere in her mind,
she remains
buried in the drifts.

Although I am in San Diego for two months, I’m watching the weather channel, seeing Boston get hit with a historic blizzard. Somehow this poem came to my pen. Image from Pixabay.com

Loss

There is no silence here.
Not in my mind
not in the landscape
not in the memories.

Damp sand between my toes.
Infinitesimal salty granules
gathered on my upper lip.
Nothing registers.

Remnants of another time
though they are happening now.
You kissed the salt away
and now you never will.

The swishing of waves,
those white capped petals of the sea.
I have stood many a time
at the doorway of dreaming.

But you always stood with me.
Your laughter.
Your gentle eyes.
Your hand holding mine.

We dreamed together.
Now I stand alone facing this vast sea.
Shall I simply wade into the darkness
or shall I sit and pray?

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today Sanaa is hosting. She asks us to use one line of her poetry in our poem….but we are to substitute derivatives for one or two of the words and see where that takes us in writing an original poem of our own. I’ve chosen the line “The rustling of leaves; I have stood many a time at the doorway of dreaming” from Buck Moon ~ Part two: Seeing things. I’ve substituted “swishing” for rustling and “petals of the sea” for leaves. Photo from Bermuda a number of years ago.