Sunday, September 9, 2012

Feathers

A flurry, tearing seed from hull
A flutter, a frenzy
Must hurry
Hurry hurry
Snow is coming, Snow is coming, 
Snow

shout
lost

in cold silence
but for a small, steady drip
dripdripdrip
knives
groaning and shattering cold
over frozen, mud-green needles
needles of ice, needles of glass
needles of mindless
cruel cold

Rachel Westfall
September 9, 2012


7 comments:

Rob-bear said...

The snow,
driven by slashing wind,
skittered to and fro
while Bear stumbled
over ice knife cold
solid ground.

"Enough," said Bear,
letting the swirling wind
disperse his scent,
as he retired
for the
winter.

christopher said...

Both you and Rob. :D

Yukon autumn. Here in Oregon we don't know about winter yet. The cats're hanging out in the sun and the birds are lazy. The bears are hanging out in the woods but nowhere nearby, alas.

Premonition

Needles of winter
puncture September's lazy
ease and I shrink from
November's rattle,
the leaves falling scarlet rain
from Sunset Maples
in front of my house
while the cat rethinks his goals
and starts to scheme on
his return indoors.
This is sure to come, always
has, but not quite yet.

erin said...

is it wrong of me to be excited? the cruelty and erasure of winter))) autumn is that one strong hand that swings us up to the back of the truck or up and over the fence. i am always so happy for the momentum.

xo
erin

Far Beyond The Ridge said...

Brrrrrr!
But i'm ready. Ready to bitch, whine, seek shelter.
But also, to love it.
To remember what a good friend it's been when most i needed one.
Rick

Rob-bear said...

Lots of good poetry, here. You're quite the muse, Rachel! Well done, folks.

Rachel Westfall said...

Yes! It is wonderful. You all inspire me so much!

Rachel Westfall said...

Yes! It is wonderful. You all inspire me so much!