Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Storm
By Robert Pack

Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
Sculpting each tree to fit your ghostly form
The surge of swirling wind defines
As if your human shape were what the storm
Sought to contrive, intending to express
Its consciousness of my white consciousness,
Sculpting each tree to fit your ghostly form.
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
Swaying in unison beneath the snow,
Calling me to you with wild gesturings
Homeward into the howling woods, although
Thinking of your abiding spirit brings
Only a whiter absence to my mind,
Only whirled snow heaped up by whirled snow,
Only a fox whose den I cannot find.

2 comments:

trinitystar said...

to my heart and back great gathering of snowflake words that melt within me. Snowflakes born to fall and flutter to the ground ... the essence of the snowflake is eternal.

http://www.hado.net/water_crystals.html
you may find this interesting Don.

Kathleen said...

WOW... Beautiful Don...!!!!!

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