Tiniest flakes
spatter our windscreen;
moonlight catches
lumbering giant fir trees,
limbs drooping snow
and, as we clutch and gear change,
I swear a giant wakes
with an out-breath – sssssshh –
and a fulsome white heap
swoops to hammer transient glass.
Hi John I loved your poem, so I wrote back how I felt.
ReplyDeleteI could see and hear .
I was there in time.
Flashing thoughts run through my mind.
A memory a feeling times of ole.
Beauty and comfort to my soul.
~Deana Meadows~
I like this poem. Great title - and the contrast between "tiniest flakes" and words like giant, lumbering, hammer, swoops, etc is wickedly effective both stylistically/imagistically & thematically.
ReplyDeleteOr I could just say what I feel - cool poem. :)
Gwenan Haines