Tuesday, 9 February 2021

A Poem a Day (377): Dew frozen

 
 
Dew frozen
 
Morning glitters, dew frozen,
droplets fall like earrings 
suspended on grasses submerged.
Tree stumps haunt in black suits
this pearl-white silent drift
washed over the forest scape.
These shapes walk like hollow
men, their insides scraped out,
limbs stretched jagged to a sky
so cold the blue is wrung out.
Dirt crunches underfoot,
newly hardened, concrete earth;
insects navigate a harder cell,
birds peck a frozen dinner table.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 9, 2021
 
 
 
 

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