Friday, February 18, 2011

Youth
In long woolen coats we'd wear our youth. Tweed caps atop our heads. Scruffy scarves tucked deeply and tightly against our lion hearts. We were long haired soldiers slouching against the dreaded cold. Sometimes half-drunk we'd congregate around sweet laughter. Speaking of dreams...speaking of girls...speaking of dampened cries of wonder and confusion at what life is. The family wounds gone unsaid. The things we hoped we'd never be. Always the gust of cigarette smoke against our eyes. Cold breath rising, we'd see ourselves as old as winter trees but never understood till now the barren warmth of longing youth.

8 comments:

Old Ollie said...

I've lived this poem.

You have nailed the imagery!

Photodiction said...

Love the images and memory you've evoked of many nights spent like this long ago... way long ago. And real truth in the last phrase, when we look back from an older age. Nicely done.

Fisheye Lens said...

Nice exercise in nostalgesics.

fiveloaf said...

great images.. my potluck.. http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2010/06/04/metamorphosis/

jessicasjapes said...

You built up a great picture of the guys there, and the sucker comment at the end. Well done!

http://jessicasjapes.wordpress.com/2011/02/21/home/

Jingle said...

superb piece.

A++

Judy Roney said...

Wow, This is an incredible poem. I love it and the memories it brings.Kudos to you!

Human Paradox said...

Classic SC. Nicely done.