White MeadowA Poem by getinthecarpleaseI. Holiday A queue of white in equinox standstill, solstice dies in tempest’s fury. To bid a travel along all I see ego and id dethroned by dreams. I’m emerging from freezing screams.
A blizzard crescendo builds on riverine; I am plague, I am sun. Molten seasons amid the impaled, white meadow rivers on which I have sailed. Haunting winds cast my solitude washed away to a fever-dream Solaris.
II. Outage Refugees at the apex of cold staring at frozen seaweed. Drifting in dreams, drifting in drear as the pawn nears mountain tears. Ice bathed electric nerves forsake us in dark. This island in the galaxies lost in memory and mystery. Astronomy, Cygnus, a strain, embrace in the rain.
III. In Hindsight/Holiday's End Branches beckon sideways to the white cloak of snow, sacred scents of evergreen… captured in the glow. Fire burns in a lover's scene, gusts wander over there. Winters allay majesty… blue sails on frozen air. Driftwood statues on the ocean rim stretching to the storm, hunters tread in village night… holiday is born.
© 2019 getinthecarplease |
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