Two Seasons Poem by Daniel Brick

Two Seasons

Rating: 5.0


Everything winter is heavy
with itself. It admits no abridgement
of its length, and crushes the tender
wishes of spring. Spring is a locked room
on the second floor of a huge mansion.
The resident who locked it also lost
the key. This should have been foreseen.
Complaints are even now circulating
in the living room and dining room,
but little can be done, because of
the frozen condition of our lives.
The resident in question refuses
to show remorse, or even interest.
But a few of us crowd the warmth
of the kitchen, and vent our feelings.
We all know what is locked away
from us: Books with refrains of warm air;
pictures of tactile green fields;
a row of vases on a shelf, each of which
contains one flower aroma. And a collection
of songs written in the spring air
by composers bewildered by emotions
surging in their hearts, like unblocked streams
flowing freely in their channels. Will we be
so free? Or must we wait until spring releases us?

Saturday, February 23, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: seasons
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Bharati Nayak 04 March 2019

A marvelous poem which tells what you mean by Spring season and how we have beeen locked ourselves out of the reach of Spring.Let me quote- - We all know what is locked away from us: Books with refrains of warm air; pictures of tactile green fields; a row of vases on a shelf, each of which contains one flower aroma. And a collection of songs written in the spring air by composers bewildered by emotions

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Glen Kappy 26 February 2019

This is a cool (no pun intended) metaphor, Daniel! My imagination and sympathy goes out to you all in ice box Minnesota. We’ve had seesaw weather here—today around 60–but in a few days? Keep warm and hope alive as you gaze longingly at those stairs that lead to the second story. Be well, brother. -Glen

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Kumarmani Mahakul 23 February 2019

Winter is heavy duet to cold weather and snow fall. But still this season is nice as this creates scenic beauty. Pictures of tactile green fields motivate many. Spring's arrival gives us tender breeze. A great imagery of seasonal flow is beautifully drawn here. This is an excellent poem beautifully penned.10

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