Sunday Poetry: “Hello Winter”
Welcome to Sunday Poetry. If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.
So it’s now the middle of winter… how are you doing? For some winter is a difficult challenge that must be taken a day at a time. For others the cold and snow is a time for silence and solitude, for healing and introspection. How is it for you? Perhaps this poem, “Relearning Winter” by Mark Svenvold will help you better appreciate this special time of year.
Remember, we read poetry together here for the pure pleasure of the experience. There are no quizzes, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share. Absolutely no dissecting allowed. Just come along for the “read.” What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week? If you’d like to tell us where the poem took you? We’ll listen.
It takes me back to those cold snowy winters of my childhood in Wisconsin. Snow so high and frozen, you could walk on top of the drifts without sinking in. Heavy woolen coats, warm until wet mittens, and scarfs to covers the face are not missed.
I remember being at my Grandma’s and being lucky enough to have a blizzard. We were snowed in there for days and it was so beautiful and white. My cousins lived there and we had such fun sledding. I loved that Winter!
I am a bit late reading this poem. It is the weekend of the “monster” blizzard in the northeast. Having lived in both the NE and the midwest, I am taken back to many such blizzards – some without heat or lights. One in particular was on Christmas Day in rural Indiana just outside Chicago. My mother managed to cook an entire Christmas dinner for about 15 people on a range that used bottled gas, with limited light from a kerosene lamp; and a small container of water. Gifts were opened under an unlighted tree using candlelight. We shivered under blankets and laughed and had a most wonderful and truly memorable day. Now I live in the NW and the rain and fog have replaced snow drifts and cracking tree branches, but winter is still winter, a time for reflection and warm memories.
What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing.