Tuesday 5 January 2010

Snow poem

Drifting

Cascading almost in stop frame animation
The sherbet sheets softly fluff the world away
Under a clean canvas that drifts down
A thousand feathers pass my window in a minute
Drowning the warmth from the open pane
Tickling my nose in the delicate breeze
Barely lifeless as the flakes descend
Sending me into silly smiles I forgot I had
Thoughts of plastic sheets on abandoned golf courses
We pretend to be a bob sleigh team
Or all the snowmen born of my hand
Shrinking back with spring thaws
The day I walked on Dutch canals beneath the windmills
All those gloved hands and rosy cheeks
That stung in whispered winds or splashed water
Each brilliant moment defined by the falling snow
That gathers at the base of everything
And reaches up with comforting coldness
Hushing troubles with its beauty and all those memories

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