Stepping Out and Dr. Zhivago

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     Stepping out and walking up the hill over
     ice-crusted snow and through the blessed darkness,
     Colored tree lights shine and blur the edges of girls
     with their crayons hunched over paper, boys
     with blocks and toy trucks scattered across the floor.
     Talking menu, the women drink tea and
     hug the little ones ‘tween their petty sufferings
     Swigging home-brew, the men speak of glaciers
     and shipwrecks and skillful hunts yet to come.
     On our way back down the hill
     when round flakes of snow sway to the ground without shattering,
     memories flood our moonlit minds.
     We see a future shorter than our past,
     knowing each new amusement and every stale resentment
     will shiver away and die suddenly, as though we never expected it to,
     in one miraculous breath of many.
     It is fitting that tonight we watch a movie, Dr. Zhivago
     a decades long fairy tale of sorts
     where good and evil and destiny and all reconciliations
     awaken the human dramas that unfold
     from birth til’ death.
     we claim the paradox.
     we make love and feel the sorrow, taste the gladness and
     we share the disappointments
     shamelessly, of our own diminutive lives.


Writing this poem awakened an old memory of the song, Mother Russia, by the band, Renaissance. A beautiful classic; almost 9.5 minutes long, but worth the time to fully appreciate Annie Haslam’s legendary clear and elegant vocal range. Mother Russia and  I Think of You are both from the Renaissance album titled, “Turn of the Cards”. I wore out playing I Think of You in the early eighties when my husband was away from home for long periods, working on the slope; however…you can’t really wear out a song as gorgeous as this; books and music and art are meant to be worn thin…that’s how they heal hearts.


0 thoughts on “Stepping Out and Dr. Zhivago”

  1. Listening to "Mother Russia" as I write this – I'm not familiar with Renaissance – this piece sounds very powerful. I read "Dr. Zhivago" when I was a teenager and named my daughter Larisa before I ever saw the movie, which I loved and still watch from time to time. The mood your poem sets is lovely… snow and moonlight, ah!

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Welcome to the creative playground of Image, Sculpture, Verse.  I live in a river town nestled in the Chugach Mountain Range of Southcentral Alaska.



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