as morning's misty curtain fades
split by mild piercing rays,
huddled figures briskly advance
in frosty's unrelenting deep bite
heeled percussion upon pavements
hint at procrastination or either,
while klaxons rudely throttle
waking hearts into dry mouths
A contest entry
- Fog by ea.
390 points, ended February 27, 2007, 10 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This is an intriguing poem. I like its rythm very much and though I am at a loss as to what klaxons are (other than a new rave band out of London?) I get a feeling for what they could be in an imaginative way which adds to the write.
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grateful
Many thanks for the wonderful trophy and your interesting words, ea...and congrats everyone..)
Ber
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