Christmas brought the gift of snow this year, not a commonplace occurrence in the South. Being trapped inside (I'm not much of a sledder or skater or bundle-er-upper), brings the opportunity to read and write, activities that have to be pushed aside during regular life routines. I've pulled out some "snow pieces" that I've written in the past couple of years. Maybe this year's snow will inspire me to write some more....
This one won me a fourth place nod one year in the Carolina Women's Writing Contest:
Oxymoron
"There's snow on the beach,"
he announced, walking in.
I turned to see him,
a mixture of ice shaving on eyelash,
salt spray on skin,
and, somehow, the words don't connect -
beach...snow...
the two images in an abrasvie refusal
to meet as one.
I looked at him...puzzled...
seeing pictures of a younger man
by the ocean,
forgotten images
working to share
the same scrapbook
with this picture, this man,
the one with the snow peppered hair.
The image now warms me -
snow - and - beach.
Morning Snowbird
A bird
was heard.
Snow was falling
down.
Snow was falling.
Bird was calling,
making spring-like
sounds.
Making spring,
flapping wings;
Bird protests the
snow.
Bird protests;
I can't rest.
I'll just get up and
go.
(That one is a true story about a bird waking me up a few winters ago...)
Precipitation Alliteration
spring brings
luminous lightning,
threatening thunder,
and
rhythmic rain.
but
winter brings
SNOW:
the weather whisperer.
(I hope you all are enjoying the quiet of snow today. Take some time to read...and write!)