As I Count Your Days Poem by Sandra Fowler
As I Count Your Days
I count the snowflakes as I count your days.
The hollows hold evaporated stars.
Each one as unique as a poem thought,
Bears witness to winter's eternity.
The landscape is the color of old wood.
Vividness would disturb its elegance.
Within its depth I carve your Slavic face
And feel my fingers warmed by memory.
Previously published: Skylark, Purdue University Calumet
I do not know anyone on the contemporary seen who writes of love with greater power than SF. Bill Grace
'The landscape is the color of old wood. Vividness would disturb its elegance.' I found those two lines really beautiful. They give the poem atmosphere and reality, a backcloth to the whole picture, the whole scene. And your last two lines finished off the poem superbly. An enjoyable read for me. Thank you, Sandra. Love, Fran xx
you really do know how to decribe out side picture of the beautiful things that your eyes do see, and brings them to your heart and mind to be able to place them into such wonderful poetry.
'each one as unique as a poem thought'...truely wonderful poem
exquisite work m'am.............so smooth and tender.......great imagery. 10 all the way
a wonderful write..and once again, full of imagery as you can truly do it.Full of emotions poured out on this piece.
the depth of memories is simply not measurable, but your magical quill has managed to fathom those depths.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 1:12:01 AM # 1.0.0
Sandra, you have a way with words and weave magic with your deep insight and imagery. a short poem, but very evocative.10. i could feel so many emotions reading it. winter lanscape, mood and then the warm ending. love Mamta