Tag: winter
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Blank Screen by Bruce Gunther
All this day with its weight of stone –with its terrible freight of unmoving time. The walls inch closer as we cometo grips with the torpor of sameness. Let’s do something, anything, we say,even if it’s simply flipping the bum a quarter. What genius is he hiding, after all, ensconcedunder his heap of blankets as…
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A Farming Family in Winter by John Grey
Inside this small cold house,all belief is doubtinghymns the choir sang,all our breaths in harnessto our clouded lips,all mouths downtrodden,and atmosphere defiling,fear, despair,at this terrible unknowing,clouds rolling in,faceless faces,nowhere to hide,a forever chillin fogs that sink low,muffle our voices,compress our brainsuntil we know nothing clear,cracked hands,bleeding cheeks,human masks breaking offin large chunks,every momenta parched sacrifice…
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Life After Death by Lynn White
Something has startled mewhere I thought I was safest,where I thought I belonged,so I will follow Whitmanin avoiding the still woods I lovedand the fields where I used to walk.I won’t emerge from my hometo meet my friends in the open spaces,or hug them and share a coffee,there are no cafes anymore, in any case.…
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What Winter Leaves by Erica Palis
With November amber jewel tonesThere’s a gold drip in your eyes.The world goes by in patterns,Time will continue to fly.I know I’m yours,Still, you know you’re not mine.With this pale December chill,I have finally seen,How I can care for you,And you don’t care for me. Erica Palis is a 25-year old college student from New…
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Ortolan in Winter by Mercedes Payton
“Ortolan in Winter” is a vivid poem that sing like a bird. The poet, Mercedes Payton, is a graduate of Kansas State University and librarian.
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Shush Please by Tamizh Ponni
A poem about insomnia on a cold night that’ll keep one lucid. “Shush Please” is by Tamizh Ponni, a Design Facilitator in an International School in Bengaluru, India.
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Snow Angels by Lucie Han
Falling snow. Steady and soundless, like a clock ticking from within a void. Like running your fingers along the keys of a piano, but never pressing down. Camille likes to do that when his heart feels too hollow for music. He touches the smooth white silence. Camille is standing at the edge of an…