The winter of us
pantoum after Ram, Indira Reddy, and Carolyn None
When all our debts remain unpaid,
with little hope of future wealth,
the memories refuse to fade
of summer’s warmth and Earth’s good health.
With little hope of future wealth,
we cannot rush the season’s song
of summer’s warmth and Earth’s good health.
The winter lasts a winter long;
You cannot rush the season’s song,
however hard you may try —
the winter lasts a winter long.
‘When will all this end?’ you cry.
However hard you may try,
you must endure this spell alone.
When will all this end? You cry
as ice winds turn your words to stone.
You must endure this spell alone,
though I’ll return before the spring,
as ice winds turn your words to stone —
I’m called back by their bitter sting
So I’ll return before the spring.
No matter how I hide,
I’m called back. Of this bitter sting,
I am still terrified.
No matter how I hide
the wash that waits a wary bed,
I am still terrified,
for hope may be alive ahead.
The wash that waits a wary bed
spills over into summer dreams,
for hope may be alive ahead —
but what’s ahead is not what it seems.
Spilling into summer dreams,
the memories refuse to fade.
But what’s ahead is not as it seems,
when all our debts remain unpaid.
This poem is part of the Passing Pantoums project on Chalkboard. I borrowed a pair of lines from each of the following pantoums:
Using lines from three very different poems proved harder than I thought it would be, and I almost elected not to publish this end result. But here it is. Many thanks to Dewi for the generous dose of constructive feedback.
