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A Winter Drive
by Glenn Currier
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Standing bones sleep
in quiescent sameness
no distinctions
among oak, elm, or hackberry
brothers in their brownness.
Their octopus arms
thrust tributaries to the sky,
some groan a lonesome bay
others howl
to earth and sun
to cease their winter whirl
and tilt in aspect of spring.
These darker bodies
are set in a scene
of harmonic Earth--
refrain of fields in burnished gold
chorus of camel-bleached grass
windflutes of plains and lullaby strains.
Hillsides' knuckled gray fingers
crafted in the crumble and crawl
of soil and surfeit of rain
crowned by two mounds—
ample amber-tan breasts,
an indulgence for the eyes.
All a welcome respite
from passions of summer
and saps of spring
an etude of peace--
a winter drive.
12/28/2002 Posted on 12/29/2002
Copyright © 2024 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/30/02 at 12:40 AM Quite haunting, and yet just as you've expressed it, Winter has a magic all its own to be enjoyed for its comings and goings. Superb expression sir! |
| Posted by Mara Meade on 12/30/02 at 01:23 PM a seasonal feast for the senses... |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 01/02/03 at 05:18 AM Like spring fills one with new energy just breathing in the season, winter brings peace! Wonderful poem Glenn! |
| Posted by Kate Demeree on 01/02/03 at 08:04 PM Oh my friend, this is beautiful.. and a trip I much needed today *hugs* thank you for taking us along. The imagry here is absolutley wonderful! The descriptions so vivid that I can see the scene. |
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