Threat Of Summer by Elizabetta

I stepped outside
into a Febuary afternoon
and I choked
on the very air

I looked around
the ground was covered
with gray three day old snow
It looked like a clearance sale
of winter wonderland
A sun sruggled to peak out
from the thick hat of clouds
that had become fashionable
for earth that cold month
All the signs pointed to
the continuance of winter
despite the protest of the ground hog
except for the air

the air loged itself in my throat
and in my mind
it smelled of the come of summer
it smelled of green grass
chlorine
memories
and I choked
violently I coughed
my eyes filling up with tears
I struggled to clear my throat,
my head

I have been a lover
of summer for so long
as I can remember
but now, it seems to have come too soon
I feel out of place
like I belong more with
the dark, gray winter
it is my companion; for we are more alike
it understands me
and I it
summer smiles upon me,
but self-righteously, smugly
dangling before me, all I could be
have been
and I pray
for just one more snowfall.

Martin Vann (65.57.58.65) -- Sunday, March 2 2003, 11:46 pm

Snow & Ice, not seasons, but protection?,
Your winters have been too long, for snow and ice, you call your only friend! Not true at all, there is a spring, summer, fall and winter, this will come to us all. There is a spring and summer, yet its been awhile since you have ever seen either one, except, Fall and Winter. Perhaps, its not the seasons you speak of here. Its your heart you describe to us, you prefer, and use cold and ice to protect your self from the warmth of love. Have you ever felt its tender touch, have you? I think so, and just suffer from its loss. Elizabetta, you write so vividly from a heart, that seems, to be locked within itself.

There is life and warmth in the seasons of our lives, but if hurt, like you may have been, you must break this palace of ice you call secuirty. Step forth, be the woman you have hidden from me and others, I will see you and come to you. First, you must open up the door and lets us in, for many of us have the love you seek, and we to, are in need. Give us but a chance, then, you can make your choice among many of us who would love you, if we could, That decision, is up to you.

Great, poem from your heart.

Martin Vann

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