It Snowed a Little Last Night
Sleepless I listen,
a muted winter magnifies
the slightest sound.
Snow falling,
snow walking over snow,
snow speaking -
wordless
as it plays a stringless harp.
Whispers of peace and death,
still night,
an ice sculptured air.
When dawn slips into
its many coated reality,
this silent symphony;
the unread simplicity
of falling snow
will have to bury its tongue.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment