Wednesday, 25 January 2012

Midnight Slovakia

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.


  1. Hi John I loved your poem, so I wrote back how I felt.

    I 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~

  2. 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.

    Or I could just say what I feel - cool poem. :)

    Gwenan Haines