A Winter Landscape
What frightened it
To stick out
As frozen quite;
Icy-pale?
Twig and its bird;
For what's unheard
Vale on vale.
Known in these parts
At these times
Wind-raised, with shrieks
Hill-rushing
Whom spite-balls pitch
That most loathed witch
Hope-crushing.
Copyright © James Watkin | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment