Stuck

My hands are cold
The coffee cup is hot
I am waiting for dreams
To finally defrost
One sip at a time.

The calendar says May,
Has for months
My eyes are stuck on
The faded flower shot
While snow falls outside.

Warm blood flow hurts
At my finger’s dead ends,
A reminder that
Nothing lasts forever
Not even photographs.

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~ by spasmicallyperfect on March 10, 2007.

5 Responses to “Stuck”

  1. Great poem, love its brevity yet it throbs with life.

    Thank you very much. I am usually not one to be brief. Am working on it though…… so the encouragement is very much appreciated 🙂

  2. geez, this must be going around, great poem though.

    that’s because what comes around usually goes around 😉 , sorry for sending it your way ;-). Glad you liked the poem though and thanks for letting me know….

  3. A reminder that
    Nothing lasts forever
    Not even photographs

    I really liked that line.
    A very pensive SP.
    Deep.
    Great picture as well.
    ~m

    I like how you tell me which lines you like. And me pensative? Never 😉 …. Thank you.

  4. The photograph completes the poem. I’m stunned.
    For some reason I’m captured by the part that says the calender has been at May for months. That’s the one that grabs me…
    very nice stuff as usual.

    Austin

    Thank you Austin, glad you liked it. It was one of those poems that started out with one line and then took on a life of its own. I always get a little nervous around these types of poems as they are not particularly linked to one event. Once I was done, I liked the messages and images that it projected.

  5. Well, ~m already stole my thunder here, but I too particularly liked the last stanza.

    -Smith

    Yes, as a photographer I am painfully aware of it.

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