As the swans of winter land on mirrored boughs,
Patting the perfect sheen with wrinkled feet
I will watch from the far shore,
Scarlet leaves churned feather-white.
As ice forms in the shallows
And black-backed trout ponder
A season free of hooks and flies
My shadow will drape the shore like dusk.
As this hardy land settles into white and black
To await the gentle tilt that tells of spring
My crystal breath will scatter snowflakes,
Glaze bitter trees to delight the moon.
i've been reading your poems listening to hard rock.. and your poems are honestly so beautiful i had to turn my music off so i could let your poems fully captivate me.. i love this poem especially, winter is my favorite season and you captured it beautifully
Only a master imagist could paint such a frost picture on the windowpanes of a winter soul. You have the poetic gift, Nomad. Warm wishes, Sandra
'Patting the perfect sheen with wrinkled feet'...you do know your winter well, don't you....such lovely images captured here....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great image...regards