Sunday, February 20, 2011



Shuddering flesh
Coverings pulled closer
In protective reflex
To ward off the unseen

Waking to find stark light
Silver threads trace
Fingers across the window
Etching ghostly fern patterns

Opened window brings
Diamond crystal pinpoints
Dusted on earth and stone
Crept high on trunk and limb

A sharp intake of breath
Calm welcoming smile
At  the pleasurable bite
And cold pinch of cheek

White light pops from
Finger to nose of best friend
As hand is outstretched
In morning welcome

Praising mornings bleak chill
All the while, underneath
Its beautiful, lifeless shroud
Spring ponders awaking

Ken Goree

When I woke this morning, I shivered.  A cold snake of winter air had crept in my open window and found, where my covers had slipped away, a patch of exposed flesh which it could bite.  Hmmm, may try to work that last bit into a future poem.  The pond that I see out my back window is shrinking, as the winter rains have done.  I don't think I've seen the last of either yet, this year.  For now though, the muddy shoreline grows as the pond on which "my" ducks frolic diminishes.  

This was the first morning I noticed the ice crystals having formed on my window.  By the time I was finishing this poem, and realizing a picture of this frozen fern would be wonderful to add to the blog, it had sublimated away into the dry morning air.

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