Archives for January 2012



The naked branches of the maple trees
against the shadowed bulk of the pines
on the horizon
remind me that winter’s violence
is not over

I take an indirect path around you through the kitchen
like an orbiting body circling spiraling
a gravity well
Counting time – coffee poured and milk back to the fridge –
before we collide

The storm that swept through last week has moved on to some other place
but the broken limbs remain as evidence of
action and reaction
Those’ll have to be cleared away before anyone
comes to visit

As you crouch in front of the fireplace
I circle again to reach the door
Let in the dog
Her wriggling presence a buffer between us
as I approach

I chide my superstition and tell myself the storm didn’t come just because I shoveled the walk
like watering the garden or washing the car seems to invoke
a summer shower.
Winter comes and then passes and spring will arrive
And I wait for it



Creative Commons License

Winter by kayemnic is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.


Writing Exercise: Create a sense of something pending

He sat down in the leather recliner just inside the door to the office and and watched her pace in front of her desk, the light from the window alternately highlighting her face and then brushing her back as she turned. “Since you’re so fond of notes, put it on paper.” he told her. Confused, she stared at him but his next words left no doubt he was serious. “Sit in your chair. Get a pen. Write it down.”

Turning back to her desk, she made a face at his curt instructions but was careful to hide it from him as she sat down. She plucked a piece of paper out of the printer tray and picked up a pen. After a long moment she carefully wrote “I need some time on my own.” No, that’s not quite right. “I think we need some time apart to decide where our relationship is going.” That’s not completely right either. Why was this so hard? She took a deep breath and tried again. “I don’t like how I’ve been feeling lately.” She continued “I don’t want to be with you right now. I don’t like-” her hand paused momentarily. “-how you seem to be feeling about me.” That wouldn’t go over well, she thought tiredly, rubbing a hand across her face as if that would force the right words to emerge. The tentative discussion she had started over the breakfast table this morning had suddenly turned into something entirely unexpected and she felt worry creep over her at the turn it was taking. Shoving her chair back from the desk with legs that refused to stop trembling, she walked to the bay window and stared out. “This isn’t high school,” she bit out, speaking in a low voice. “I’m not going to pass you notes. There’s no reason I can’t say this to you out loud. I know why we’re together and this isn’t going -”

“You know?”

The sheer lack of expression on his face would have been a warning but even with her back to him she could picture his careful movements and hear the creak of leather as he rose from his chair and it continued to rock in the absence of his weight. She didn’t hear his footsteps but imagined she could feel the heat of his body as he stood behind her, not even an inch of space separating them. His warm hand smoothed its way up her arm and across her shoulder and rested against the back of her neck. The pressure it exerted felt far greater than the actual weight of it.

“I don’t think you know anything,” he breathed, the gentle exhalation that carried his words brushing across her ear.