In the warm inside of starless winter
I always felt and breathed the casual same
cold, caged pleasure of a zoo-bound monkey
until you dropped the sly line of marriage.
I welcomed your rise over tipsy tragedy,
loved the way your touch revived my rhythm.
Those piled questions of music and rhythm
in your mock plushy car in parked winter
were with me while we watched the silver tragedy
of a theatre film made with the same
smiles and sighs of a long and round marriage
with participants who play as monkeys.
Lunatic laughter unlike some mild monkey
was the middle ground of whistling rhythm
that founded our never mature marriage
of space-filler ideas in calm winter.
Despite all that, I loved you just the same
and can’t now understand the falling tragedy
of passing presence that became a tragedy,
deep, dark and pressed beneath the old monkeys
who view our messy madness. But the same
centered calamity of broken rhythm
is spotty sun in smooth almost winter.
The rate, the rate is fading. Now, marriage
is dripping and diving. Look here, marriage!
Don’t pretend to be a sheer tragedy,
like pale white sheets hidden in the winter
inside the closet with the flat monkey
pressed onto paper that fractures rhythm
and confers space to dot and line—the same.
In dreams, we occur in a room the same.
After years, we smile and sing our marriage.
Those musical queries are now my rhythm,
and what’s in a word is not tragedy,
or fallen comedy. And the monkeys
play frantically in the star-popped winter.
Withered rhythm is soon a tragedy,
as are the same rotations in marriage.
But, yes, I am your monkey in winter.
Lindsay loves dreams and other wispy things, especially those which dwell in the realm of positivity. She hopes to widen the perspectives of her readers and never stop learning. She is a journalist, as well as a creative writer and explorer.
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5 Responses to “WINTER RHYTHM • by Lindsay”
Comments
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October 20th, 2010 at 7:21 am
Very excellent. I especially like the first two stanzas.
October 20th, 2010 at 11:29 am
Five stars for exquisite expression of language and sentiment without sentimentality.
October 20th, 2010 at 12:46 pm
Thanks, Roberta and @ocean. Any other comments or criticism welcomed. By the way, my full name is Lindsay Oberst.
October 20th, 2010 at 6:10 pm
Especially fine sestina! Very witty line ends. Love the image of ‘monkeys play frantically in the star-popped winter.’ This is pure joy to read over and over.
August 15th, 2011 at 8:35 am
[...] A sestina can be a fun form to play with for writers, but not many poets master this form. See my poem as an example. [...]