Wintery Blush Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Wintery Blush.

The street was cold snow had yet to fall, asphalt frozen pearly grey and
pavement tiles cracked underfoot. The sky was limp clear, the sun was
but a decoration, a miserable yellow balloon not taken down after
the New Year party. From the insipid sky hung icicles the sun couldn’t
thaw, but solar reflections made them look like sparkling diamonds.
A frozen painting of isolated beauty, of an unbridgeable haughtiness
that knew of no compassion. White clouds gathered looking as a flock
of polar bears waking over their future demise. But their warm breaths
thawed the icicles that fell like snow, covered the land; and my untidy
garden appears equal to the neat ones.