Unmasking the Season
The chill of winter
is upon us
raging and undulating
in its fierceness
icicle chips like soldiers
advance in hurls
of whiteness
overcoming all:
subtle valleys and hillsides
speckled with adorning
spruce, birch and poplar
iced up rivers and lakes
temperatures at a standstill
and below.
There is still time
to contemplate and review
any options
now flee to your nest
of comfort.
© 2009 Richard L. Provencher
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | October 8, 2009 - 22:34
Powerful, as always, Richard.
Our 'nests of comfort' ... an inspired phrase and how true.
Tina
Richard L. Prov... | October 9, 2009 - 02:21
Thank you so much, Tina, for your encouraging comments. These days, the muse is exploding within me and words are flying all over the place. Cheers, Richard LP
Nathan Bednarek | October 9, 2009 - 23:29
'icicle chips like soldiers
advance in hurls
of whiteness'
A great poem with a very characteristic tone- almost like listening to a jongleur ;-)
Well done.
Nathan.
Richard L. Prov... | October 10, 2009 - 03:05
Your comments, Nathan are always appreciated. I must search out "jongleur" a new word for me. Cheers, Richard LP
Nathan Bednarek | October 10, 2009 - 16:06
Jongleur- a wandering minstrel, poet, or entertainer in medieval England and France.
;-)
Richard L. Prov... | October 11, 2009 - 02:35
That's a neat compliment. Thanks, Nathan. Cheers, Richard