We had never known snow before.
So when it came upon us
like crackling old sky,
covering us with its
eager innocence--
there was no rebirth.
There was no remaking
from a full year's sins,
no understanding of
season
for we who knew only
sun or rain.
All we could feel
was such a burning cold
that we cried aloud
in the agony of surprise
until the tears
melted the ice from our lips,
broke our fingers anew
and cleaned our eyes
so that we could reach and
touch again
and again
the skin of the earth
that crumbled
in our whispering palms.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I love how you make snow seem so foreign even to us who should be used to it by now.
Mike stole my comment.
I like it.
Mixed with an apocalyptic feel. I don't know if that's what you intended, but it certainly felt like it. Which is just plain great, imagining tiny snowflakes creating such a ruckus when they land.
'in our whispering palms'
aw <3
I can't even decide a favorite line. Each stanza just got better and better...I think the last two are my favorites. Like Mike and Tabia said, it's really awesome how snow can feel new again. And yet, I like the feeling that it's not new in the sense that it's not like a "rebirth", as you said - it's simply something strange and alien. I like the idea it implies that in order for something to be a rebirth and allow you to start over, it has to be something old and familiar.
Post a Comment