Anyway, what do you do when you're unexpectedly sitting home on a workday? I write poems. Here are a couple of haiku, and then a longer poem, all of which I owe to yesterday's ice storm. First, the haiku:
The road a sheet of ice--
the phone out--the lights flickering--
sirens and hot tea.
***
The neighbor's willow
slowly shatters--bent branches
ripping and snapping.
***
Ice Storm
How do trees survive in these
persistent hard times? Ice-bound,
choked off, encrusted, a bent-double pine
in the neighbor's yard: in three month's time
it will harbor whole towns of chorusing birds.
Today, though, Spring is but a distant hallelujah,
as winter shatters the willow, its woody sinews
cracking like thunder and crashing to hard ground.
Meanwhile, sirens scream toward another wreck
on the frozen streets of our huddled town.
Fierce winter seems to chill the heart,
but patience learned in northern climes
makes hope hardy, like a northern pine.
4 comments:
very cool :-)
Nancy stopped by my blog to tell me about your poems.
I like this line...
"...patience learned in northern climes
makes hope hardy, like a northern pine."
I also like the juxtaposition of sirens and tea in your first one. Much of life feels like that... the tension of threat and comfort in the same space.
Glad you guys liked it! Especially as you both write some fine poetry yourselves.
i'm working on a painting of an ice storm's close up magic on tree branches. was searching for poems on ice storms for mental inspriation. really liked the line: Spring is but a distant hallelujah...thanks.
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