her snow-boots trample through
piles of snow
stained in bitterness, and twinkling
ominously
piles of snow
stained in bitterness, and twinkling
ominously
her hand-knit gloves brush lightly
along evergreen branches
weighed down with this season’s
trials
along evergreen branches
weighed down with this season’s
trials
her mouth exhales, a flushed O
emitting spirals of half-condensed air
clawing up towards the upper
atmosphere
emitting spirals of half-condensed air
clawing up towards the upper
atmosphere
her heart thuds dutifully,
perpetuating the music of her body
music which has been set on pause
as
perpetuating the music of her body
music which has been set on pause
as
her mind flutters carefully, frightfully,
a million miles away, or only four
to where smoke echoes her ragged breathing
and brittle anger shatters, slowly seeping
into the snow.
a million miles away, or only four
to where smoke echoes her ragged breathing
and brittle anger shatters, slowly seeping
into the snow.
I feel like this poem has no point and a point all at the same time. I can almost see the point and I know that there's one there but I can't see it. At the same time, the poem still doesn't feel pointless...anyway, I liked it!
ReplyDeleteFavorite lines:
emitting spirals of half-condensed air
clawing up towards the upper
atmosphere