Replying to a comment on:

Sonnet for Snow (Sonnet) by ecargo

In these woods, the mind turns to small matters, the eye turns to truer treasures: a mouse trail curving through the skim of snow pauses riverside, meanders on, lost to red-tail swaying into wind; a white pine drilled with Pileated holes. (We knock to make the red squirrel peek out, scold.) I shake the snow-webs free from spreading pines, and laugh as snow-spray coats you white, below. We chase our beckoning shadows, as we wind through stands of silver beech, a copse of snow- brushed spruce, great spires rising to the sky. Our breath soughs, forming patterns in the air, and words hang weblike, scatter, disappear.

zodiac 14-Feb-06/12:55 PM
Nice.




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001