Winter's Song

It starts as nothing more than air.

The curl of frozen breath or a

hint of smoke collapsed on the wind

icing latent tress laid bare.

Carried through winter's dark womb

of hard silver frosts. Muted snow

a million silent lights, sharp

in the stiffening cold, a harp-

song of hope. Until suddenly

it's obvious. Obvious like

the moon, full on a cloudless night,

through the pale singing Winter’s song.

ChristmasWinter

◄ Hidden horizons

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Comments

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M.C. Newberry

Thu 26th Dec 2013 16:01

The timeless refrain of rest - then regeneration.
Earth's endless song.

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Dave Bradley

Thu 26th Dec 2013 12:00

I liked this Andy. A poem to wake one up and make one look and feel again

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