Thursday, January 26, 2017

Thursday Poem - Frost

Notice each windowpane has a different
Swirling pattern of frost etched on the glass.

And notice how slowly the sun melts
The glaze.  It is indelible: a fossil of a fern,

Or a coelacanth, or a derelict who
Rummages in his pockets and pulls out a few

Apple cores.  Notice the peculiar
angle of light in the slow shift of sunrise.

Where is the whir of the helicopter?
The search for escaped convicts in the city?

Be amazed at the shine and the wet.
Simply to live is a joy.

Arthur Sze


Tabor said...

What an odd and interesting poem. I remember as a child seeing the lacy frost on the windows.

Pienosole said...


Mystic Meandering said...

Magical :)