“Snowstorm”

Not yet, but there is always anticipation.  Maybe next Tuesday.

 

 

There is witchery in the night,

Monstrous ghost trees loom,

Every minor twig blasted thick crystal,

Bushes cold-laden exploded willows

Bending in tired submission

To a transformed ground.

 

The dark of a winter sky

A distant rose-pale glow

As if some drunken Aurora Borealis

Has cast her color, dipped low

Wheeled from her northern skies

And settled in for a night below.

 

Commonalities made fantastic

A jolt from a bare frost-parched season-

Incomprehensible mystery before the eye.

 

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010-16

 

 

“Snowstorm”

Snowfall in Atlanta

SNOWSTORM

There is witchery in the night,

Monstrous Ghost Trees loom,

Every minor twig blasted thick crystal,

Bushes cold-laden exploded willows

Bending in tired submission

To a transformed ground.

—

The dark of a winter sky,

A distant rose-pale glow

As if some drunken Aurora Borealis

Has cast her color, dipped low and

Wheeled from her northern skies

To settle for a night below.

—

Commonalities made fantastic.

A gift  from a bare frost-parched season-

Incomprehensible mystery before the eye.

—

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010