|
The First Snow Person
by Kristina Woodhillthe first snow person
stood still in falling streams
of the very first white
eyes wide, enthralled
by spitting soft ice
from splitting dark skies,
snow person warm, bundled tight
no careful
stacking
of three balls
papa ball bottom
mama ball middle
baby ball balanced
on top of it all
the first snow person
held arms out
palms up
mouth opened wide
protruding tongue
concave flexed
like a pretty pink cup
the first snow flake
born of aerial Artiste
exquisite crystalline form
sculpted shape
intricate lattice-work
tatting royale, unique
met the warm
the melt of which,
just touching a lash,
whispered eye to ear
ear to throat
silent choking word to heart,
the transitory
the trailing sacred tear
the first snow person,
bereft at beauty
lost, the instant found
aghast its radiance
a causal death,
called the deeper cold,
feet rooting in the ground
cold welcomes all
into its world of calm,
its lasting peaceful meld
flakes now perfectly preserved,
the first snow person
stood still in falling streams
and held
03/10/2011
Posted on 03/10/2011
Copyright © 2025 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 03/11/11 at 01:51 AM ITs a KEEPER! This is going immediately into my favorites. This is awesome, Kristina....and I mean awesome as in SUPERBLY EXCELLENT...and me? THIS leaves me awestruck! |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 03/11/11 at 03:17 AM This takes me through emotions like the Colorado river. My immediate inkling was feeling dazzled, whereupon a deep sadness was pulling on me. You write with the natural knack of engaging ones deeper innerness, that's what I know. And hold. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 03/11/11 at 04:11 AM This soooo reminds me of the way I feel about wind, that it is no respecter of persons. I adore the way I felt as I read this. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 03/11/11 at 08:43 PM It holds together quite well lady and I like a number of the individual lines between the stanzas. Don't go swimming with the tsunami in sight, ha ha! |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 03/14/11 at 12:31 AM A frozen moment captured... each word freezing like water on an icicle until it forms a sharp point on which we etch our memory. Great write. |
| Posted by Roger J Kenyon on 04/06/11 at 04:41 AM One fine moving poem, poem Ms. Kristina Woodhill.
Thank you. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/22/11 at 12:44 PM this poem has everything going for it, particularly it is music to my ears the symphony of which quells and dispels fears. lo and behold, three cheers for this ode or a hundred thousand hurrahs! |
|
