Snowflake Dance
February 24, 2014 § 1 Comment
a single snowflake drifting
who is it to stand
apart from millions
just another white blur
dancing the snowflake waltz
a tiny creation carried
by the wind
but maybe this one
icy crystal will fall
into the outstretched hand
of a child looking up in wonder
at the spiraling snowy dance
hoping to catch
some magic for himself
who is it to stand
apart from millions
but who is it not to
standing on my backporch at eleven pm after a snow storm
January 31, 2014 § Leave a comment
silence and a soft cold
the yellow landscape
tricks eyes into thinking
it’s dusk, highlighting objects
that go unnoticed most nights
at eleven pm
and a whispering echo
moving from north to south
gently lifts moisture from the ground
glittering
and moving quickly
like a school of frozen
fish in a pond
of yellowy light
it sends ice on a journey
of purposeful patterns
of bending and swirling
and pieces too small to see
touch your face
their cold surface pricking you
for only a second
before melting away
to another place.
Cold
January 19, 2014 § 2 Comments
It’s going to get cold tonight
according to the birds,
and the bits of frozen rain
beginning to fall.
And it often does this time of year.
But the cold tonight is somehow different
because my house is especially quiet
and my walls are especially thin,
but just for tonight.
The wind brings the cold and
I can hear it, the wind that is.
Better than usual because
I’m actually listening
and Saint Sebald is searching
for stillness, to no avail.
It’s not angry, or spiteful.
Nor jealous or guilt-ridden.
Simply powerful. A howling
that is much more triumphant
than tyranical.
A cold that speaks not of barren
tundras, shivering bodies,
but of an awakening. An urging.
Seize it. For the cold too, will pass.
rosepoems 