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Fresh snow:
Briefly clean, soft-plosive, yielding.
I wake at dawn to edgeless light,
Breathe in a vast, pre-conscious, grey-white wrong.

Time passes.
Snow ploughs grind attrition-war.
Bright tender mountains, marshaled back by force.
My limbless movements, severed,
Start the groping day in solitude once more.

Time passes, and geography is altered.
The filthy crags have vitrified to quartz.
All streets and sidewalks narrowed, ice-scars deepened.
The prospect of a thaw.

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The following comments are for "Winter; parted"
by MobiusSoul

"..the prospect of a thaw"

cool captures

( Posted by: Bobby7L [Member] On: February 15, 2011 )

a "grey-white wrong"

icy-cool reportorial snapshots..

( Posted by: Bobby7L [Member] On: February 15, 2011 )

I somehow think this might be a metaphor instead of an observation of nature. Perhaps it's because it's presented in what I view as a personal link. Yes? No?

( Posted by: Pen [Member] On: February 16, 2011 )

Love this new word. I will find ways to use it whether or not any of my conversations this week call for it.

Like the best such poems, this works just as well whether it's literally about a natural scene (which is beautiful) or metaphorically about, say, the death of intimacy, awakening to a less welcoming world (which is also beautiful) -- or both.

Greatly enjoyed. Made me reflect.

( Posted by: manatee [Member] On: February 16, 2011 )

B7L, Pen, Lucie, Manatee
B7L - I thought this one might appeal to your poetic sensibility. (Well, ok, there are still a few prepositions and suchlike in there!) This winter has been brutal... and life's failures bite deeper below freezing.

Pen – It is both, absolutely (metaphor and nature observation, intertwined). And Manatee - likewise: you got it exactly (which means I succeeded, which means I am happy). Your comments are muchly encouraging.

Lucie – I know that you too live with this type of winter and have probably woken, as I have too often of late, to the snow ploughs’ dawn chorus. It cheers me to share that. Thanks for reading.

( Posted by: MobiusSoul [Member] On: February 16, 2011 )

Ice scarred
Had an image of you parting a white sea of snow, not unlike Moses (but more factual). I do love soft-plosives. Gave me a image of diving balled up into a mountain of snow, happily spraying it in all directions.

There does seem to bit a bit of frustration at this never-ending season of extremes. Summer never seeming so far away.

Beautiful. The poem - not the intrusive weather.

( Posted by: toscano [Member] On: February 17, 2011 )

Winter; parted
Woderful poem.Thank you.

( Posted by: michaelpatrick [Member] On: July 20, 2011 )

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