Witness to a Winter's Murder

in collaboration w/Kendrick A. Mast, author of Substack Newsletter "DIS"

Kendrick A. Mast; “I did try my hand at painting.” ←-click me to find Kendrick’s Newsletter!

Original

a winter murder

I saw the first confused azalea bud
on my walk today.
It doesn't know it's still January,
but we all know that the winter doesn't last
preciously stamped out by the returning hordes of feets and their ever-pounding
gnawing slacked-jaw wide open staring 
gawk
at the sight of it,
but ignore the heart of it.
How sad, 
I thought.
On my walk today,
I witnessed peaceful, present winter slipping away. 

Revised

witness to a winter's murder

I saw the first confused azalea bud on my walk today. It doesn't know it's still January,
but we all know that the winter doesn't last long here. Instead, it's preciously stamped out by the returning hordes of feet and their ever-pounding, ever-demanding; gnawing slacked-jaw wide-open staring, gawking and chewing at the cud we shove into their mouths, where they scream and shout at our very hands. The sight of it ignores heart of it. How sad, I thought. On my walk today, to witness peaceful, present winter slipping away. 

Editor’s Note

This works better in a paragraph format, I think. I should feel dense and unavoidable. Inspired by the incomparable, Sumaya Enyegue. If you do not already follow their work on Instagram, I would recommend that you do (@sumayapoetry). A bit of clarity here and there, this one didn’t need much tweaking to make the point. I may return to this one again. I feel…expansion?

Author’s Note

Winter is my favorite season. It’s the quietest part of the year for us, as far as tourists are concerned. But,…we used to have much more than just the winter and deep summer. To me, even only a decade ago, we had a set tourist season and a set local season. We all collectively braced and prepared for the former, while we fought for the rest in the latter. The hordes no longer stop. The locusts linger all year long, leaving little behind but stagnant opinions on stale beer breath. Tourists: may cicadas plague your ears, and our humidity be your downfall. Locals: wear sunscreen, watch the water tables.

2 months and 2 days until fall, y’all.