A Season's Passing (Found Poem)

A Season's Passing

Winter, unsocial, grumbled
in the dark, its somber features

derived from too-long nights
spent un-illumined. In our caves,

we passed cracked and icy smiles
from one to another, fumbled

midnight repartee like writers
of reciprocally deadly jokes.

Not even poetry accounted
for the dullness of our senses

as we approached lights out.
Do we nudge, as we ought,

toward the favors of spring,
expect the melange of candles

on our night tables to pass
for inspiration after dinner?

What accounts for love's
friendly give and take we know

is light that dances, incandescent.

2017 © Maureen E. Doallas
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This is a found poem. For source text, see the poem at Tom Clark's Blog.