A Sharp Frost Poem by Liam ó Comáin
A Sharp Frost
Across the meadow
autumn frost gripped
the low stubble;
like a vice it held
its victim.
Hardening near by
top soil and preserving
foot marks like finger prints.
By a trough a freisian
prodded ice, in pursuit
of water, unaware of the
rising tempature as an ally.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: autumn
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8/20/2026 9:10:30 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
nice picture goes with this one...thank you...