“Walking In The New Winter Woods”…..poetry





Walking in the new winter woods,

the crunch of frozen ground beneath

my boots,

my dog’s paws will be sore tonight

for we aim far afield.


I think of this morning when we

argued at breakfast,

the smell of maple bacon should

stop all that, but didn’t.


We can’t get past the desiccated ghosts

who have taken up residence in our hearts, inviting

slights and outright blows never delivered

but still lingering in the air.


I took the gun loaded with birdshot

in case there was a duck down by the pond.

Was, but those were sitting ducks

didn’t seem right, too easy a target

like this morning at breakfast when either one

of us could have let swing and landed a good one

on tender flesh and raw nerves.


The dog is game for hunting, but my heart

isn’t in it.


My thoughts go back to you standing there,

that old apron around your waist,

determined not to let me see tears

and my heart cracks and soon I head back with

a peace offering of a bough of holly.


Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010-2014

“Walking In The New Winter Woods” originally published in “White Cranes of Heaven”, Lulu.com, 2011

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4 Responses to ““Walking In The New Winter Woods”…..poetry”

  1. johnallenrichter Says:

    Lovely. The woods in a new slow is truly a new wood indeed. I have always known that, always recognized that. But you know what? I never brought it to the forefront of my mind until I just read your poem… Ergo, awesome poem!


  2. ladynyo Says:

    Thank you, John! Yes, a snowfall makes everything lovely and rather alien. I remember a 6 inch snowfall the first of March 6 years ago here in Atlanta, and our neighborhood was transformed into a Japanese village in the winter. It is truly a miracle of visual transformation. It snowed all day, and by dusk it was something I will never forget.

    My eyes have been bothering me a lot, and so I have not visited many websites in the past few weeks…but this weekend, I will visit yours. Thank you for reading, commenting and liking this poem.



  3. Caliban's Sister Says:

    dissicated goats taking up residence in hearts. Sigh. love this poem, how lovely. Snowfall is always magical (until the power goes out, or you get 8 ft of it, like upstate NY did!). beautiful poem Jane. love CS


  4. ladynyo Says:

    Hello Sweetheart!

    How good to hear from you. It’s an earlier poem but one of my favorite. I was trying to ‘speak’ in a different voice, a male voice, and it confused some readers. LOL! Well, life and poetry can be confusing.

    Snow fall….yes, I love it….and even …Especially when the power goes out….(we have a woodstove….hehehe) so we are still warm and cook on it. However, this new model we bought a few weeks ago from the Amish Lehman’s…isn’t as efficient as the other Consolidated Dutchwests we had before from them. Part of the problem is this: those older stoves were leaking and were warmer because of it. We did buy a stove fan, and glad we did, otherwise damn the quilts, we would have been pulling the three dogs on top of us….”Three Dog Night”. Apparently the native Alaskans (Eskimos??) would pull their sled or Samoyeds on top of them during the night because of the density of their fur.

    By the way, when ‘the mother’ read this poem, she thought it was about her. Of course! Narcissists claim every event in the world as theirs. I hadn’t a thought of her(or my father) when I wrote it.

    Usually I strive to make some commonality in my poems to people’s experience. This brought me up straight that sometimes….that is something you don’t want to follow. LOL!

    PS: don’t know about desiccated goats, but think there is a lot of room in hearts for anything. LOL!

    Love, Jane xox


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