
I woke up late,
It’s Saturday morning.
The snow is falling
A fine spray of tiny flakes swirling, dancing,
Falling to the ground,
Beneath a cold grey sky.
A light dusting, everything topped with white like powdered sugar on chocolate cake,
And a woodpecker with black-and-white polka-dot wings
And a bright red patch of feathers on the back of its neck
Perches at a feeder in the crabapple tree
Pecking out suet and seeds with its sharp black shiny beak.
I hear that swooshy soft sound of car tires on the slick pavement of 8th avenue,
Muffled and sleepy.
Skiers in their cars line up on I-70 waiting for their first real chance to hit the slopes.
It’s winter, the days are short,
The nights are long black journeys dreamed beneath comforters.
There is conflict and chaos all over the world today -
Opinions all black and white take wing, circling madly in search of ears.
The red patch on a neck is blood;
The muffled sounds are victims
Falling under hard black guns and shiny bombs and sharp machetes.
Refugees line up for water,
For rice that spills from relief trucks in a fine, dancing spray;
The sky arching over everyone is dark and filled with tears.
Their days of sunshine short -
Their nights so long and filled with nightmare darkness.
Today,
And here,
The snow is dancing;
Beauty everywhere you look.
Peace covers the earth, a fine sweet powder: a dream
I woke with
This Saturday morning.
I miss watching snow. But I don't miss being in it.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
4 Dec 2007
A thin film of mist on cold water.
Bone dry air on a cool winter day.
Steamy mornings. cold steam.
The lake is steaming in the cold dawn.
Misty wisps on wintry morns.
5 Dec 2007
Veiled seas under clear skies
The night was sharp, clear and cold.
The moon was unreasonably bright.
A bright firefly astride a quarter moon.
Planetshine. Moonshine. Starshine.
A quarrelsome moon.
Posted by: poetryman69 | December 08, 2007 at 05:37 PM