Doug Roy, Words of Wisdom, Cut Paper
ICE IN NOVEMBER
To try to stay alive,
the sparrows huddle in trees,
like bees in a hive.
This is November.
It’s brutal weather.
One’s heart and mind
are frozen like this river,
though it still moves,
under the surface ice.
The sky is bluish gray.
It’s melancholy.
That’s how it seems to me.
It dominates my dreams.
A poet uses poetic language,
but I’m like those sparrows,
with only one desire,
as I use borrowed words,
attempting to start my fire.
______________
George Freek