Sedimentary Thursday

by Poet on the Piano   Dec 3, 2010


The day mourned as if every tree base
was a rueful cry that became softened
by underground flutes.
The still snow, like valleys of woven wool,
lay unchanged in their semblance;
even the ordinary glow of ruddy stalk
seemed to frown at winter's beginning.
Caught between spells, the winds
of yesteryear had no stratum,
no renewal that their masterful work
would be needed.

The sun: click
turns off its light bulb
and dooms the planet
for thirty- one power outages.

    report violation
7


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Latest Comments

  • 13 years ago

    by Ingrid

    The still snow, like valleys of woven wool,
    lay unchanged in their semblance

    ^^
    this line alone is worth a 5 out of 5:)

    Well written, MaryAnne!

    5/5 Ingrid

  • 13 years ago

    by silvershoes

    Your words are singular, unusual, striking - they leave me stunned. It's been a while since I've read something different than I'm used to... and so I'm glad to have come across your writing because it's refreshing. A breath of fresh air. A delicious breeze I can inhale and relish :)
    You better win the weekly with one of your poems! You deserve recognition!

    ........ Each line of this poem is a treasure. I wouldn't change a thing.

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