Image From Wallpapers.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
From my books Bohemian Scents and Riverthink
Ice
All posts tagged Ice
“Icy Lake” by Janet James
cold hard edges of winter
recede from a slow nearing sun
ice diminishes
clarity ousts opaque finishes
surfaces find their reveal
living waters
at long last exhale
lakes and millponds
released from their
three moons of torpor
no longer incumbent
on holding their seasonal breath
come again now to quicken
in rippling submission
to mountain-sent winds
casting choppy reflections
in caricature of the sentient
clouds set to oversee
osprey and heron
return to their bars
frigid shadowy shallows
emergent with coldblooded
fish coming out of
their wintery lethargy
stirred by the hooting
and hollering voices ashore
lucky folks who a year ago
chose today’s date
in the age-old tradition of
ice-out day calendar lottery
“Road to Giverny in Winter” by Claude Monet
ice forms in slim wombs
subterranean
temporal passages
crystal with seasons
swell yesterday’s thaw
pushing upthrusting
seriate ripples
embellishing pavements
men laid with a matrix
of dreamstuff
an undulant shapely
cascade leading
either away from
or back to a time and
a place that have
finished themselves
bygone eras completed
now covered by distance
with ribbons of roads
ever lengthening
reaching to span
two opposing horizons
conflicting emotions
of sunrise and sunset
the alpha omega points
true destinations
for traffic compelled
by alternative passions
indifferent to time
From my books Ephemera and Legacies (vol. 2)
“January Jam” by Barry Thompson
winter’s flotsam
wreckage of a season
river arrested
Image from pinterest.com
Black-iron wood stove flared pungently warm
Checkerboard straddling an oak barrel rim
Players hunched upon fruit crates that creaked
Pipesmoke circled the older man’s head
Clear blue eyes in a white whiskered face
The young man kept shifting uncomfortably
Considering moves with a hesitant hand when
The door blew bang-open to wind-driven snow
And a frightening figure appeared with a rush
Fully filling the portal with storm-bundled hulk
Wet snow gusted across the sawdust-laid floor
He had panic about him and gasped for lost breath
Till his mouth gave a cry like a bear in a trap
Filling up the big room with deep guttural moans
It took a few moments to unroll his trouble
His boys had both fallen through hard millpond ice
In a single swift motion the aproned proprietor
Grabbed for his coat and vaulted the bartop
The players jumped up checkers flew through the air
They snatched coiled ropes and an oil-lamp down
From wall pegs along the shelved mercantile wall
The old man knocked the father back into the night
The young man flew by them on tall slender legs
Pumping his way through the knee-high new snow
He couldn’t make out where the breach had occurred
But heard desperate voices and thanked God for that
With a rope in his hand he moved out on the ice
Calling and crawling toward where they might be
The lantern light jounced as the rest of the party
Slogged through the dense drifts to the edge of the pond
Two immature ghosts were chased off on that night
But a bone-chill still shivers them sixty years on
Gray haired brothers now play that same barrelhead board
Keeping close by the heat of that same old black stove
Ready willing and able to jump at the sound of the door
(originally posted December 2013)
“Row Boat No. 3” by Delilah Smith
lake ice nearly gone
boats shiver in their moorage
heron bide their time
“Snow Storm” collage by Vera Simons
the air crinkles
like cellophane
clinging to skin
each inhale
an icy shock
shuddering lungs
each exhale a
gelid cold cloud
soft beards become
stiff wired brushes
and tears turn to
gemstones set
still on the cheek
arctic needles
prick pores
frigid stings
into layers of
muslin and down
till the core vents
the last of its
organic warmth
ahh
the bracing brisk joy
of a life sharp and
clean in the fierce
freezing throes of
a rigorous winter
(originally posted January 2014)
“Ice House” by Harry Gottlieb
brick by brick
block by block
silver surfaces
yield to assault
by saw blades
and chisels
ponds stolen
in pieces
contraband
cash crop
for poachers
alert for the
cock-snap
a landowner
shotgun might
crack in the
echoing chill
“Winter Landscape with Skaters” by Hendrick Avercamp
(Regarding Hendrick Avercamp)
bird’s eye view
a winter milieu
little ice age
in freeze-frame
of frolic and
low country
leisure adapted
to landscapes
persistent with ice
winter gray
shortened days
along frozen canals
bustling lively with
ruddy-cheeked
skaters abroad
horsedrawn sleighs
cutting paths
between dreams
and desires
each canvas a
cherished memento
of Nederland
pride and vitality
Image from pinterest.com
swam under the ice
pushed whole lakes with my palms
now my fire has died
Poesy plus Polemics 