Monday, January 3, 2011
In winter, waiting
Life is pale
in ice-cold afternoon
in sun’s retreat
flakes of frost
patterned on panes
of glass, etching
absence of warmth
Beyond the glass
a world of white
the memory of the dead,
tree limbs groaning
all waiting for dawn,
a new day
This poem is submitted as part of the Warrior Poets Society, sponsored and hosted by Jason Stasyszen at Connecting to Impact. To see other poems submitted, please visit Jason’s site. The prompt for today was “new day.”
Photograph: Snowy Winter by Anna Cervova via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
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You've made an excellent image of cold that is "rib-aching"; we can feel that, know we've experienced it.
Ohh -- it sounds like the day outside my window! All snowy and frosty and white.
Beautiful poem Glynn.
You've described it well ... and I hear the trees groaning in our -22F weather this morning. Or perhaps it is me!
Wow, Glynn. I love this so much. You just made me formally resolve to read more poetry this year. You definitely made me feel this.
Thanks for participating.
rib-aching.........makes me glad I live in the South.....wonderful poem.
I feel it, and I too am waiting for that dawn. Awesome!
Disclaimer: I know nothing of poetry but this poem, I like. I like the shape of it, the flow of the words and the images I conjure up as I read. Thanks for continuing to broaden my horizon!
This brings back memories of the winters lived up north. When I read "rib-aching" I felt as though I was right back there.
Really good Glynn.
So good that I shivered...brrrr.
You inspire me bro', you really do!
i like this
My favorite line:
"a world of white
the memory of the dead"
I'm a sucker for aliteration. Great poem Glynn!
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