Tendrils weaving, clutching, gnawing
at the smothering embrace of dirt and grime
reaching for a beacon of light
to secure their place in space and time…

I long to breathe in perpetuity
What tomorrow may betray
A precious moment in time
My everyday today…

Scarcely enough to summon my gaze
she hovers —reticence short-lived,
her sun-dipped flesh begging to be seen…

Morning calls like times of prayer
The billowy fog hugging a reticent horizon
Insistent on remaining unsheathed…

If only I could pinpoint
That moment in time
When the flutter of spring
In my chest, in my mind…

Rooted in a century of alpine life
Endless dreams of cleaving
Through fanciful puffs of white…

At the first sign of daybreak
the warlords withdrew,
a show of cowardice
or perhaps a failed coup…

No more than a seedling
clawing her way through darkness,
tentacles stealing time…

Like the one in a million
Destined for light
Or a lover, friend
And partner for life…

Teetering on the edge of the sublime,
Primed to carve from her flesh

An impossible rhyme,
In deference only to his sybaritic delight…

Is it because
I feast on your velvet
And swoon in your scent
Or steep in your splendor like a vernal thief…

Enslaved, ravenous you
Bartering your soul at every turn.
Robotic, insatiable me
Unable to savor, unwilling to see…

Cloaked within
The depth of my core
Lives a muse who can bend
To the life she unfolds…

The wrinkles of youth
are but embryos of time…

A gnawing desire to pass the baton
with dignity and grace consumed her.
It was but. a generational yearning,
vehemently coursing…

The light of which Ms. Gorman speaks
abounds, I do believe.
A poet’s flame takes guts to ignite
I applaud her bravery…

Christmas Blues
Acrostic poem