Mother always called
a day like this
a “lowry” day
the sun hidden
only a threat of rain
not cold – chilly
she said it’s what
Dad called days like this
(something about his Irish heritage)
something else, though –
beneath the weather –
makes it lowry
an attitude, a state of things in general
an unnameable sadness for what could be
a miasma
a desire to wrap oneself in
a cozy blanket and
sit fireside
pondering not much of anything
feeling…
...lowry
Contributed to dVersePoets.com
Open Link Night
ha you bring that word to life...and i def would not mind being fireside thinking of absolutely nothing...
ReplyDeleteI simply adore poems about words, especially ones I have not head before. This captures both new word joy and the experience that goes with it. It simply echoes in the space it inhabits on the page. Really wonderful poem, that brings to life again that joy and awe that comes with knowing new words.
ReplyDeletehey man...thanks for popping in while i was away...hope you have a great saturday...
ReplyDelete