I’m busy more often than not, and no – the Stonegauge is not dead.  Just dormant.  When I have been writing lately, it’s been personal and it’s been in the mail (didn’t I once say that it’s great getting letters in the mail?)…  That or I am doing hockey stuff.

This off-season has afforded me more time for myself (which has been a good and bad thing).  I’ve found escape in writing, an ability to immerse myself in a thought or idea, or a feeling and a story.  It’s like a release, as it used to be when I would write a real good poem that conveyed something creatively.

Oh, I’m still doing poetry too.  Just not much of it, thanks.  That’s what this post is – a poem.  Something I wrote a few months ago for an absent face.

Waiting for Her Word

I’m self aware and insecure
I’m hanging by a thread
Alone with thoughts and falancies
I’m waiting for her word

The still between us, a sea of silence,
Leaves open too much wonderment
Just a whisper would assauge me so
I’m waiting for her word

The cozy bliss of an embrace
A sight-for-sore-eyes, a lovers gaze
What is missing? A brief exchange
I’m waiting for her word

To summarize her meandering prose,
Or describe her vibrant pose:
Zest for living, wherever she roams
I’m waiting for her word

©2011 John Fontana

Raw-ly so.

Ladies and gentlemen, can I please draw your attention to the newest blog entry to the SB Nation community: Raw Charge.