Winter is here. Again. After vacationing all of January, she decided to return. And we're glad.
The "dead" of winter -
Or so they say.
But winter lives
In her own way.
She leaves her tracks,
She shows us signs.
Not brilliant blooms,
But webs of lines.
Not sprout or splash,
But silver gray.
Winter lives
In her own way.
Icicles are winter's fingers
That form where freezing water lingers.
Icicles are winter's arrows
Pointing out the crows and sparrows.
Icicles are dragon's teeth.
They don't grow up.
They drip beneath.
Snow man.
Snow woman.
They are not real.
They are not human.
They cannot walk,
They cannot creep.
Except when humans
Are asleep.
Winter Eyes: poems and paintings by Douglas Florian.
1 comment:
Oh, man. Those icicles are beautiful. Just make sure you enjoy them from afar so they do not fall on you. And "well done" to D and B#2 for the amazing snow person. :)
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