Radiator Poem by John Grey

She wants a Valentine’s day poem.

But I can’t just pick up a poem

on the way home from work.

It’s not a Hallmark card.

And outside is no inspiration.

It’s deep in winter, bare and sleet-covered,

looks like something that has never been loved.

She’s persistent, wants my feelings,

not just in reality but on paper as well.

And here I am shivering,

despite a body swathed in layer upon layer.

And of clothing, not passion.

And what of the woman?

Even as I write, she’s out there somewhere,

either driving at a slug’s pace behind plows,

or trying to keep her balance on an icy sidewalk.

The first words out of my pen are “frost” and ”bite”.

And followed up by “hypothermia.”.

It’s not that she doesn’t inspire me.

But so does that bird in the tree,

frozen in place, wings gripped to its sides.

It has more on its mind than loving.

For survival is the deepest emotion.

What good is affection if there’s no one around

to do the affecting?

The problem with Valentine’s Day

is that’s in the wrong season.

It’s a Spring concept. It’s May. Even June.

But I can’t change the calendar.

February 14th is almost upon me.

The challenge has been set.

Wind rattles the windows.

The panes are glazed over.

Finally, the poem kicks in.

But more like a radiator than a blossoming flower.

It’s the best I can do in this weather.

So forget me its hisses, burps and rattles.

It’s the time of year.

Warmth can get loud.

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John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in New World Writing, City Brink and Tenth Muse. Latest books, “Subject Matters”,” Between Two Fires” and “Covert” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Paterson Literary Review, Amazing Stories and Cantos.