Well, gosh

A while back (remember back when we had these things called classes?) I wrote an "image poem" for a creative writing class assignment. I was reluctant to have a poem be the first piece of my creative writing that I showed to my class, but it actually turned out pretty well. All of my classmates gave similar comments that were simultaneously helpful and pleasantly surprising. I decided to post it here for anyone to take a look at, if you felt so inclined. Keep in mind, I do not consider myself a poet, so it's totally fine if you think it's a pile of rubbish.

I stand at the window, watching the glass

Icicles, snowflakes swirl and glitter in the sun

The luminuous shaft shimmers on the snow,

and warms my nose, the crest of my cheeks,

my closed eyelids.

There is nothing but the slight warmth

on my face, until the spray hits it.

The salt smells tangy,

a drop spreads sharp spikes across my tongue.

Hair bun runaways wrap in abstract patterns around my slick neck

The sun on my bare arms, but my legs are goose-bumped,

The spray slips past my shorts and down my ankle

I squish my toes in my soggy boat shoes.

The rigging strains and snaps,

a rough line chafes my hands, spilling wind from the sails.

We’re slowing down-another boat comes up fast

They have the windward tack, the right of way

And we have to get out of theirs

A shouted order, my fingers fumble

to pull the line, push the tiller

They’re close; will we make it?

But no,

I’m wrapped in a robe of white,

and glass,

the sun on the snowflakes,

and my face.