tagNon-Erotic PoetryHoarfrost & Slip-Ice

Hoarfrost & Slip-Ice


Winter is old
and cold
to the bone

That ancient word hoar frost cackled
as his old man's fire crackled
snapped alone
on a farm of a wintry night

White in black is swirls and wind dyed
dark iced roads and wrecks T-fried
icicles flicker red
from the abyss
of winter's dark Abbess

If you are lucky enough
a popsicle is still possible

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byReltne© 2 comments/ 1778 views/ 0 favorites

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