Wild geese pepper a grey soup sky,
hanging almost too thick for flight.
Colors only shocking by their absence
beg seasoning to flavor the season.
Trees down to twigs poke stiffly in wind.
Snow-swollen sticks of marshmallows,
they freeze far above the fire of Spring,
stirring and simmering deep underground.
Living in Michigan I can really appreciate this poem Lori. I loved the line about the snow- swollen sticks of marshmallows! All our trees here are covered with snow and now that's the image I'll have when I look at them. Very nice. :) Sincerely, mary
A vivid picture of the play of the stasis described and the movement waiting in the wings. Though it doesn't snow where I am (gets a little nippy, though) , I loved feeling the cold in this poem!
What a lovely write here Lori, an unusual way of putting things, but it works so well. I loved it. Love Ernestine XXX
I am feeling haiku here without the form and I'm lovin the imagery... -Eila
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That's a lovely write Lori, great descriptions, well presented and thought out. Lovely read, very meaningful. Loved it. Love Ernestine XXX