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A Winter Drive
by Glenn Currier
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 © 2026 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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