Cold Can Be Beautiful
Baby, slice wedges
of snow for pillows;
I'll frost the covers
of our soft, fluffy bed
with roses the color
of meringue.
Let your eye wander
over this storied white
landscape; be patient!
We can weather-watch
alone forever, or catalog
that sweet, tender unrest
of yours in steamy words
and phrases that warm
my tattooed ears. Tracking
your breaths, that litany
of murmurs composed
for delicate skin fragrant
as June, I curl into your
sweet hollows, ask if
every night in this cold
can be beautiful.
2016 © Maureen E. Doallas
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This found poem is inspired by a TweetSpeak Poetry post, "Top 10 Pillow Poems", a roundup by LW Lindquist for "Poem on Your Pillow Day" (May 3, 2016).
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2 comments:
Delightful. I'm in awe of what you manage to do with found poetry.
I had to smile at the "tattooed ears". Can't imagine that you have them--which reminds me that a poem's persona is often not the poet!
Beautifully descriptive and evocative - I love your poem. 'With roses the colour of meringue' ... aaaaaaahhh x
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