Winter
Just because summer hasmade her escape
and your dead trees pine for the sun
what is that to me?
I am not afraid.
Just because winter has
frozen your blood
at the height of unspeakable storms
what is that to me?
I do not hide from the wind.
Just because you pack your
fists full of ice
till the heat of your love-rage burns cold
what is that to me?
I will not call you a man.
posted by Erin @ 8:58 AM
3 Comments:
I know that there are one or two men who read my blog, and for you I have a little disclaimer: this is not about you. I have immense respect for my male friends and I apologize for my angry feminist poems, it's just that some things in my head can only be released through writing.
oh Erin, i love your fierceness and consideration!
(now for a slightly more relevant post)
my most favourite word in your poem: "pine" ah! so clever--i will be marvelling at this for DAYS
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