First attempt at poetry in a long while.
***
January: A Sestina
December is gone, and in the dim cold January
Secures each changing door of her quiet prison.
She does not hear the angry roar behind each lock,
The prisoners submit with dying valor,
Chained to their memories, a family,
An invisible tribe that hides in visible shadow.
There is a shape that forms in every shadow.
It springs to life in the creeping days of January,
Forms of the same pattern, a bizarre family
Within dark patches of white sun. This prison
Is brief but the images remain. This valor
Is useless. A broken key in a hidden lock.
None know the secret of breaking this lock.
A song echoes in the midst of the darkest shadow.
Captives sing of nascent joy, their refrain valor.
Endless is the season; they await the end of January
When February releases the snowbound prison.
A tattered symphony from this inharmonious family.
A single string connects to every heart, each family
Tangled, a mass of thread enfettered by a lock
By the bonds of faith and virtue, into another prison.
Over the first, dim, massive in scope, a second shadow,
From eve to eve it spans a year, an echo of January.
It steals in silence when we have forgotten valor.
We are not brave, we who hold to false valor.
Our community is nothing against her cruel family.
We run far through the year and return to January.
She smiles, we step through the doors. She turns the lock.
We close our eyes, dream, and embrace shadow,
To forget freedom and desire lies in the gray prison.
Convicts desire day, free men crave prison.
Each endures with thoughts that champion valor.
None notice the light that lives beyond shadow.
Men and women, hide in your thoughts of family,
Though rusted, these bonds form a secure lock,
That cannot be broken by January.
The shadow plays within the prison,
And in cold ice January marries valor.
A family of shadow, a forgotten lock.
***
January: A Sestina
December is gone, and in the dim cold January
Secures each changing door of her quiet prison.
She does not hear the angry roar behind each lock,
The prisoners submit with dying valor,
Chained to their memories, a family,
An invisible tribe that hides in visible shadow.
There is a shape that forms in every shadow.
It springs to life in the creeping days of January,
Forms of the same pattern, a bizarre family
Within dark patches of white sun. This prison
Is brief but the images remain. This valor
Is useless. A broken key in a hidden lock.
None know the secret of breaking this lock.
A song echoes in the midst of the darkest shadow.
Captives sing of nascent joy, their refrain valor.
Endless is the season; they await the end of January
When February releases the snowbound prison.
A tattered symphony from this inharmonious family.
A single string connects to every heart, each family
Tangled, a mass of thread enfettered by a lock
By the bonds of faith and virtue, into another prison.
Over the first, dim, massive in scope, a second shadow,
From eve to eve it spans a year, an echo of January.
It steals in silence when we have forgotten valor.
We are not brave, we who hold to false valor.
Our community is nothing against her cruel family.
We run far through the year and return to January.
She smiles, we step through the doors. She turns the lock.
We close our eyes, dream, and embrace shadow,
To forget freedom and desire lies in the gray prison.
Convicts desire day, free men crave prison.
Each endures with thoughts that champion valor.
None notice the light that lives beyond shadow.
Men and women, hide in your thoughts of family,
Though rusted, these bonds form a secure lock,
That cannot be broken by January.
The shadow plays within the prison,
And in cold ice January marries valor.
A family of shadow, a forgotten lock.