Friday, July 20, 2007

Walking Around


Twin suns flicker.

Their magenta light,
heatless,
crayon scrawls
on the white planet.
Numb, I
lumber,
watching ice
grow.
The steady silence
hums.

There are so many places
to play hockey.
I will be sculpted
by cold.
Over there!
I will stand
and pose.

1 comment:

Catnapping said...

this made me think of days sooo cold the moisture in our air has frozen to glitter.



an excellent poem. thank you.