Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Backstory



The first snow combs the sky.
Under a cotillion weight of so many icy maidens,
branches dip with their scores of graying juniper.

Crystalline blooms huddle
on the rotunda. These ladies bring nothing

but myths of symmetry. Maybe
midweek, sun enough will

drop them, bring them to tears
among the stones. May's thaw
will wrestle the gin from the conifers.
They’ll compose a fable

in the slope
of my nose.



9 comments:

  1. ha. all the ice maidens weighing down the trees...really like the myths of symmetry line...great closing line, ha...telling a story in the slope of you nose...i can smell them...cool piece man..

    ReplyDelete
  2. What rich language and metaphors you paint the winter in.. Love to see winter as dancing ladies.. And

    ReplyDelete
  3. These ladies bring nothing

    but myths of symmetry.... so very cool... what cool lines to describe the first embassadors of winter...

    ReplyDelete
  4. mysterious closing lines; vivid imagery ~

    ReplyDelete
  5. love this part ..."They’ll compose a fable

    in the slope
    of my nose."

    ReplyDelete
  6. Very cool. I love the "myths of symmetry."

    ReplyDelete
  7. ha...your close made me smile...this whole piece is beautifully written. Love the imagery.

    ReplyDelete
  8. The ending was awesome. Actually, the whole piece was. :)

    ReplyDelete
  9. I already feel the draw of spring in this. The elixir of gin warming my veins.

    ReplyDelete