Seven Days Frozen
By Ed Crane
- 2195 reads
Landscapes turn slowly
monochrome. Trodden
paths, granite hard, dried
in bitter air. Familiar greens
of leaves darker, dulled
and blackened. Grass bows
its blades in deference to
the power of frost which
coats them every night.
Steel hard blue sky offers
no respite and frozen berries
no food for fluffed up birds,
silently bearing up with hope.
On open fields, sealed with
an icy kiss, Deer roam, trailing
steamy breath, testing earth
with cloven blows for signs of
yielding and a meagre morsel.
Rabbits dig deep venturing
out only when desperate.
Buzzards circle over stilled
fields and skeletal trees on
look-out, knowing they are
the only winners of winter.
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Comments
Oh, it made me feel cold,
Oh, it made me feel cold, cold, but also a pleasure to be taken there even though the landscape so dulled and hard. You brring out so many different aspects. Is it based on a particular location?
This week, we have had some real delights in hoar frost though – amazing to see leaves edged with sparkling white needles! Rhiannon
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Harsh and bleak.
Harsh and bleak. Cold and frigid. I loved the hardiness of the buzzards 'winning'. A final nail.
I thought in these lines that the focus was less intense. Possibly that 'bows' already hints at deference so no need to repeat.
'Grass bows
its blades in deference to
the power of frost which
coats them every night.'
A very fine poem.
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I love the idea of a field
I love the idea of a field being sealed with an icy kiss. I could just imagine the grass instantly frosted at the pinch of a kiss. Lovely writing, Ed.
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Goodness this is beautiful!
Goodness this is beautiful!
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