- Non-Erotic Poetry
- December
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The end of morning. Going out, I hear
the rains have stopped. The wind has spent its ire
and silence has descended on the year.
One lonely bird sits ruffled on the wire,
a woolly comma stuck against the grey
and virgin slate of early winter's sky
that snowflakes will write music on today:
A wordless song for one more year gone by.
- COMMENTS
greenmountaineerover 10 years agoWonderful, absolutely wonderful, although I must confess, demure, I thought the second stanza was going to be a chalk on blackboard staccato mark because that's how I feel about the chill up my spine that happens in December sometimes.
Ashesh9over 10 years ago& virgin slate of early winter's sky ......
Wonderfully evocative 'n descriptive : as always , thank You for sharin' .
