Playing the Exchange
Yes, it's beautiful
this landscape of white
broken by the dark tree lines.
The wind howls
the snow accumulates
like bull market profits
only to later melt down to a trickle.
Logging trucks tear up the dirt road
jeeps slide down,
otherwise silence,
cold slippery ground
and isolation--
anthropomorphized into a punishment for sins--
each roof-chained icicle is a bead
on winter's rosary--
fingered in penitence
melted into the spring of forgiveness.
11 comments:
Wow Suki.
"melted into the spring of forgiveness"
Love that.
I really like the snow compared to the stock market. Original and very clever, Suki. Beautiful last stanza, as well.
Suki, I love this poem, but this line is brilliant!!!
"each roof-chained icicle is a bead
on winter's rosary--"
Double and triple wow.♥
'each roof-chained icicle is a bead
on winter's rosary--
fingered in penitence
melted into the spring of forgiveness.'
suki!!! do i need to even tell you? BRILLIANT.
♥
kj
Very good! And apt
what a lovely poem to chance upon this morning....thank you for posting ;-)
Suki this is beautiful. Such a picture of winter you paint with your words. I love that phrase about the stock brokerage.
And your header is stunning too!
The red and the white and black of your page...brilliant!
Stay warm! And keep writing!
I am sure you have said your three Hail Marys so you will soon be released from this purgatory called winter.
so many lovely images here, makes me forget that its snow.
A beautiful poem for a winter day.
I love every line, and am so ready for spring, too
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