A razor-blade wind is slicing me to the bone
as I trudge through the snow-shrouded park.
Overhead, the stars wheel in their courses,
a swirl of scattered diamond-dust.
There is nobody in sight: my only companions
the moan of the wind and my breath-vapour.
I could be the sole survivor of a new Ice Age,
lost in the tundra of my own imagination.
A grim and fanciful thought, yet not without appeal.
There is a cleansing and redemptive force
in the pristine bleakness of winter snow--
a cold corrective in the winds that blow.
Author notes
The season is winter.
A contest entry
- 12 hour Winter Quickie by poet2angels.
475 points, ended December 9, 2007, 18 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Winter Rounds Contest - 1 by amaranthine lover.
600 points, ended January 9, 2008, 23 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - AP 2008: Become Published by B Chandler.
2000 points, ended August 3, 2008, 40 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I like to look up at the lamp pole and watch mesmerized the falling flakes I could do this until frozen to death thank god I don't live near snow anymore. Its additive to watch...
Cyber Artist
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very nice
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***
beautiful piece, I love the imagery in it -
I really like this!
These lines were brilliant:
"I could be the sole survivor of a new Ice Age,
lost in the tundra of my own imagination.
A grim and fanciful thought, yet not without appeal."
Amazing job
Lynda
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A cleansing
That is just how I feel at those moments.Another gem Bill. The sad thing is that Poems like thses go unnoticed by those seeking their AP erotic mates. What a shame I think
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