The Tranquility Of Winter Poem by Chris Ernest Nelson

by Chris Ernest Nelson

He sits on his broad porch, his eyes
cast as far as the golden plain stretches,
all the way to the vague horizon
where the setting sun says goodbye
to a drowsy world.

As the strolling winter approaches
along a weary road, the days
grow short and his dreams call his
thoughts to follow the blinking
sun into darkness.

If he could remember clearly all
the exercises of love stored in his
bending bones, he would stir from
his solemn reverie and once again
persuade a gentle smile.

He alone has stored such things
in a pensive treasury of miracles
that touch his heart and tease him
to remember them as they were in
a theater of longings past.

The late sun looks him in his falling
eyes and in its last wave goodbye
tosses its flashing cap to the evening
wind, a foggy mist follows fast after
and together they’re lost forever.

Smug twilight becomes his last friend,
that dear one who knows him best.
The call of brazen spring and the heat
of lazy summer make way at last for
the still tranquility of winter.