Mark Strand

Rookie (Prince Edward Island, Canada)

A Piece Of The Storm - Poem by Mark Strand

From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,
A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room
And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up
From your book, saw it the moment it landed.
That's all There was to it. No more than a solemn waking
To brevity, to the lifting and falling away of attention, swiftly,
A time between times, a flowerless funeral. No more than that
Except for the feeling that this piece of the storm,
Which turned into nothing before your eyes, would come back,
That someone years hence, sitting as you are now, might say:
'It's time. The air is ready. The sky has an opening.'


Comments about A Piece Of The Storm by Mark Strand

  • Seema Devi Sharma (9/24/2017 3:02:00 PM)


    Great poem.Thanks poet for sharing it.
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  • Subhas Chandra Chakra (9/24/2017 9:33:00 AM)


    A time between times, a flowerless funeral
    Beautifully penned. Thanks for the sharing.
    Congrats.
    10+++
    (Report) Reply

  • Anil Kumar Panda (9/24/2017 9:09:00 AM)


    Beautifully done. The flow and concept simply amazing. Congrats. (Report) Reply

  • Savita Tyagi (9/24/2017 6:27:00 AM)


    The sky has an opening.....open for doomsday or open for sunshine......take your pic......a well crafted poem that makes a reader's imagination flow too. Congratulations! (Report) Reply

  • Glen Kappy (9/24/2017 6:22:00 AM)


    Even with the the word funeral coming before, the ending was a surprise to me. What a good extended metaphor! And good craft- in, out, done. -GK (Report) Reply

  • Lantz Pierre (9/24/2017 5:01:00 AM)


    Wow. Once you key in on what isn't explicitly said in this poem the power and the glory of it drives a nail through you and you're stuck. Don't let that first line pass you by as just another striking image. It's where you enter the poem. Locate yourself. In Rome. A city not exactly prone to getting snow. A miraculous event? Or just simply out of the ordinary? Certainly not a common snowflake entering this room. A brief, swift occurrence in The Eternal City, Rome. This evanescent appearance by the snowflake, but a moment in time, and fade to black. It cannot come back. Or can it? And what is it, this snowflake representing? A single, solitary stand-in for something, bigger, grander, more powerful. The blizzard. What will come through that opening in the sky next time? When it is time. This poem is transcendent in its ghostly overlays of what is there and what is not. It has the glory of being much more than a little imaginative poem. (Report) Reply

  • Kumarmani Mahakul (9/24/2017 4:14:00 AM)


    It's time. The air is ready. The sky has an opening.'... whatever the dark night be it must get morning. Beautiful poem. Thanks and congratulation for P.O.D. (Report) Reply

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (9/24/2017 3:52:00 AM)


    Such an interesting poem.... (Report) Reply

  • Robert Murray Smith (9/24/2017 1:15:00 AM)


    This is an imaginative poem. That is all. No glory in being imaginative unless the poem hits the mark. This one had no mark and nothing to hit. (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (9/24/2017 12:44:00 AM)


    The storm! ! Nature walks. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, August 28, 2014

Poem Edited: Thursday, August 28, 2014


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