Dreaming of Sol

Snow sifting drifts 
     laying cold glitter sheets 
       across the frozen landscape
          creating art impressions
             like acid etching glass,
              open space undulating,
                small hills and depressions,
                  bedecked veil of white.

The silence is deafening,
      quiet surpassing peace
          briefly punctuated by the call of a bird,
            shrieking sharp whistle
               attacking the silence.

The fresh smell of snowfall wafts
    as it settles and glistens
       in the light of silver moonbeams,
          randomly peeping through clouds.

Oh the taste of peace,
    frigid tranquility,
       my mesmerized imagination soaring
          to another time and place.




           as the moor welcomes its quilt
               sleeping with a cold heart,
                   dreaming of Sol

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Starward's picture

The great American poet,

The great American poet, Wallace Stevens (whom I have been reading for forty years as of this coming October) wrote numerous poems about the emergence of the sun in spring after the shortened days of winter.  Your poem here is just as dramatic and moving as any of his on that topic.



Sassylass's picture


for such a stunning review

Much appreciated!

Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....



Stephen's picture

Excellent as usual.


Sassylass's picture

You are

so very kind, Stephen ♥️

Thanks for your lovely comment!

Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....