City Of Coldness Poem by Lamont Palmer

City Of Coldness

Rating: 3.7

Snow claims walkways: restless crystals,
like they are at its mercy, but who really is,
which is the test of wind, or the speed of air.
Intimately involved, shovel and man? Most
of what you do is survive: Donner Party terms,
lachrymose stares. The hills tear up at
the mention of beauty, the only
glimmer of its truly gimcrack soul, now
hastily swirling: white twisters not believed.
Sometimes the boys slide into sad ditches,
pulled out by workmen, summoned in confusion,
but not before resolve has been unleashed,
(while egos are sated by wind chill factors)
and slick roads have been placed into perspective.

Pranab K Chakraborty 09 February 2011

Skilled craft of expression haunts our intelligence. Only emotion can't hold its nectar. Beautiful crystal of poetic soul, at least, we can have the fragrance of beauty. Last of all we can also imitate the sound: MOST / OF WHAT YOU DO IS SURVIVE..... Regards, pranab 10+++

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Shadow Girl 10 June 2011

Beautiful personification. You have a unique talent. When are we going to hear a new poem from you?

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Richard Dates 06 January 2022

We are all in some sort of Donner Party.

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Robert Charles Howard, 19 October 2021

Love this poem! Rich in music and keen in structure.

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Melissa Robinson 01 January 2014

You are very talented, each line creates a vivid picture in my head. keep up the good work.!

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Heather Wilkins 29 July 2013

good write. extra nice imagery enjoyed

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Patricia Grantham 24 July 2013

Loved this poem Lamont. Living in a big city can be cold and aloof. Everybody is about doing their own thing. The icy streets and gusty winds adds to the blatant surroundings. Good write.

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