Around the grey lagoon they paced,
he smug with conquest,
which had felt, to her,
more like assault than love.
This would be the pattern
until she was done.
Grey skies, grey water,
thick snow muffling the world
the way her numbness
muffled what otherwise
would have been impossible to face:
a grey, endless winter of the heart,
with spring eight long years away.
for Fireblossom Friday's prompt at Real Toads: Winter
sad...my immediate thought was of spousal abuse...and having been recently exposed to a bit of its nastiness...its stomach turning...and makes me rather angry
ReplyDelete...a grey, endless winter of the heart...
ReplyDeleteNever has sadness and pain been so honestly/beautifully described.
Snow as ally softening the blows, grey as bearable within such a winter when the abuser still paces in the same circle--ouch. ouch. ouch.
ReplyDeleteHi Sherry ~~ Pretty soon here I was thinking of a bonded indenture servant type, confirmed when I hit the "eight years" bit. Possibly a 'hoe' and her 'pimp'? Sad plight, anyway.
ReplyDeleteYou told it nicely, lots of empathy developed for her.
..
Indentured servant or abusive marriage - same thing, Jim.......the spring is that much sweeter once she escapes.
DeleteThis poem haunts-all that grey time wasted waiting for the heart to thaw-so sad!
ReplyDeleteWell written, Sherry!
So sad when winter will dominate and creep in under the skin of a relationship..oh the misgivings of life.. Why do we do it for the wrong reason?
ReplyDeleteWow! What an excellent poem - part story, part examination of the human heart. Sterling work.
ReplyDeletethe last few lines are so beautiful
ReplyDeleteWinter is a trapper's season, isn't it? So glad you got out, even if there was some gnawing away to do it. Very cold and true winter words, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteThere's no colder winter than that of the heart. You wrote about this beautifully. Sad that it took eight years to escape the cold. But that's how lfe works.
ReplyDeleteSherry I really love this poem.
ReplyDeletewhich had felt, to her,
ReplyDeletemore like assault than love.
This would be the pattern
until she was done....
Wow, Sherry, powerful lines... one of your best (of many)
Sherry, every now and then you plumb a certain well of inspiration that results in writing like the first poem of yours that I loved, and this one too! I echo Kerry's "wow".
ReplyDeleteWow, that's powerful. Sad, and so very well written. If this is in any way autobiographical, I'm glad the time is up.
ReplyDelete"the way her numbness
ReplyDeletemuffled "… I can feel this… see her. Nice, Sherry.
oh heck... that made my heart bleed a bit...wish there could be spring and summer for her
ReplyDeleteI could feel the darkness the feeling of helplessness as she waits for spring.
ReplyDeleteA grey, endless winter of the heart would be difficult to endure.
ReplyDeleteOh, the melancholy in this...the pain of truth.
ReplyDeletethis is heart-wrenching, Sherry! at least it did end.
ReplyDeletei hope the new year is treating you well.
♥
(if this is a duplicate comment, please delete~my first one disappeared.)
so glad I don't need to wait eight long year
ReplyDeletea touch of sadness fear and desperation..but a ray of hope lurking nearby
ReplyDeleteOh, Sherry, what an amazing take on the prompt photo. Well done, but heartbreaking.
ReplyDeleteK
Powerful and emotive, Sherry.
ReplyDeletethe quiet here, the patience... ~
ReplyDelete