Poetry Sunday

Thoughts on love and memory for the new year ...

New Year Love 

by Kristal Leebrick 

I remember our breath
in the icy air
and how the northern lights gathered
in a haze at the horizon,
spread up past the water tower
then vanished into the dark.
I remember that January night in North Dakota:
We left the dance,
the hoods of our dads’ air force parkas zipped tight,
our bare hands pulled into the coat sleeves.
We ran
into the wind
down the drifting sidewalks of our eighth-grade lives
to the brick-and-clapboard row houses on Spruce Street.
We ducked between buildings
and you pulled me close.
A flickering light from someone’s TV screen.
A kitchen window.
Your fingers tracing my face.
Your hair brushing my eyes.
Your skin, your lips.
My legs, my heart
I remember that January night in North Dakota,
but I can’t remember your name.


"We ran/into the wind/down the drifting sidewalks of our eighth-grade lives" - I don't know about you, but I think that's wonderful imagery.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of the first weekend of 2020. It's probably all downhill from here, at least politically.

More thoughts coming.

Bilbo