January, mourning.
No sun. No warmth.
Only snow, falling slowly, as if
piano keys
...
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Smoky, I enjoyed this poem, the enchantment of it, once I got past the first two lines. Did you mean to write 'mourning' rather than morning? And the second line made me think more negative was coming—but no so. -Glen
Glen, yes. Even in mourning there is some beautiful 'music' to be discovered.
I fell under the spell of your Snow Song and summoned a million stars to shine on it and also faved it for my future delight
you know, no one who doesn't know you would ever expect such lyrical elegant poetry by someone named Smoky Hoss! ! ! but we are fortunate to know you and are never surprised by your talent
Only snow, falling slowly, as if piano keys being pressed, softly.----------this is powerful writing, my friend---Glen has the right word---enchanting---weaving a spell with words---heady stuff! !