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A Stranger To The Seasons

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Below is the poem entitled A Stranger To The Seasons which was written by poet Keith Bickerstaffe. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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A Stranger To The Seasons

Starved of work his sharpened blade
is dulled by anonymity,
feckless, drifting here and there,
he has no true identity,
time has no fidelity,
and space has no consistency,
he has no frames of reference to rely on. 
Work is the measure of the man,
his strengths and limitations.
Now, shrunken wallet, shineless shoes
and shrinking reputation,
a shadow of his former self,
a soulless apparition
wholly spent, a stranger to the seasons.

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  1. Date: 7/3/2012 9:02:00 PM
    WOW, this is SO good, Keith. It's exactly what men today are feeling. My husband used to be self employed with a framing business. We never made loads of money but we did much better than today. My hubbie is not himself any more. YOu really captured that thing that makes a man a "stranger to the seasons," you word master, you!

  1. Date: 7/3/2012 3:42:00 PM
    very powerful and sad at the same time, which is hard to pull off. a wonderful and thought-provoking poem...

  1. Date: 7/3/2012 2:39:00 PM
    A awesome poem Keith. You could feel the shrinking of self worth as he becomes a stranger to the seasons. We can see this happen when the economy falls. Well done. love phyl

  1. Date: 7/3/2012 12:20:00 PM
    such gripping write and i felt the words of reality from start to finish... good use of alliteration as well... remarkable!..:) huggs!