Icicles plunk down onto the crust
of the hail-beaten snow.
Atop the barren surface blows
a gust, rolling over the hills,
looking for a warm place to stop.
Well into the dusk and then night,
a tree limb shivers,
the gust keeps trudging on.
Author notes
Prompt: winter, less than 60 words
A contest entry
- QUICKIE: seasons [3/4] by etoile.
550 points, ended November 17, 2008, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
nice take on the prompt. I liked your imagery in this poem. it was nicely written for only under 60 words.
i liked the last line alot. it was written very well.
thanks for entering and goodluck
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very well done, i like the last two lines, it really makes you think about how exactly winter just keeps going, great poem, best of luck in the contest
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