Times Revenge Poem by David Wood
Times Revenge
The cold is filling my hands in
January's chill damp weather
With thunderbolts and lightning.
Two thumbs and two fingers
Moan like a swirling mist rising
Up from under an old front door.
The clarinet has taken time
Off and sits forlorn in its case.
A music stand with Ode to Joy
Pestering me to play, but I can't.
It will be my constant companion
At least until the end of February.
Stubbornness may prevail and
I press on through the pain, but
Then night gets its own back as
I am kept awake. Arthritis is times
Revenge that we can do nothing
About except have patience.
It is a cold and biting winter. I can feel the terrible cold creeping into the hands and fingers.
Your poem is very well expressed. I'm sorry about your struggles with arthritis pain. I hope spring comes quickly for you.
Life's realities captured nicely.Every body passes through winter.It is painful as you said 'Stubbornness may prevail and I press on through the pain, but Then night gets its own back as I am kept awake
A very heartfelt poem embellished with compelling images and beautiful poetic expressions. Liked the opening stanza. I can see those unfortunate fingers at close range.Superb imagery.
The dead of winter which is usually in January is indeed the most intense stillness and darkness that affect our emotions. Yet, this is just ephemeral. It shall come to pass and we can enjoy again the wonders of existence.
Cold weather augments our suffering / pains specially when we are sick or have been suffering from existing illness. The cold air that cuts like knife is just terrible.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/28/2024 7:14:39 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Dave I see you mention yr clarinet are you practicing? Bravo!
Not now, the weight of it rests on my right thumb which gets painful after half hour and last till the next day. It'll be ok come spring.