The fresh fallen snow brightens
up the dark grey vista of morning
heavy branches bow in quietness
transformation on a January day
from the bitter cold bareness
to winters warm robe of white
beyond the trees a small band of deer
wandering across the pristine landscape
precision and grace in their movement
leaving tracks connected in the journey
nibbling on emerald green arborvitaes
the only sound is the whisper of the wind
I watch in stillness from the warmth inside
dreaming of making my own imprints
on that wondrous canvas of white
putting on my coat, hat, gloves and boots
venturing outside I lay under blue sky
and make snow angels just for today….
linking with dVerse Poetics
hosted by Kim write about snow as you see, feel or imagine it, in any form you wish, using clear imagery as crisp as fresh-fallen snow.
I can see you, making snow angels under the sky.
ReplyDeleteNothing in the world seemed like more fun when I was growing up than making snow angels after a fresh snowfall. Thank you for jogging my memory. Loved your poem.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, Trudessa. I love the snow scene you paint with your words!
ReplyDelete