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The East

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The East The East wind is cold and is full of hoarfrost. It crosses the land, in a wild storm, raging! It is heavy with hail, and larger black rocks... of mud and dirt. It contains fist-sized stones, to hammer the land into a new shape. Soon the west will be unrecognizable. and foreign to those that live there.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 6/29/2022 8:09:00 PM
East meets West. What are the odds?!
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Date: 6/29/2022 2:19:00 PM
Well a write full of analogy, I think you have Captured the feeling of surreality and Foreboding that is apparant more at times Than many might wish to acknowledge ' Ann.
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Date: 6/29/2022 5:22:00 AM
Con-migration? I did a poem on this theme. We started after ww2, in guilt & shame. Thosecarecwribgvreasinscto fake kindness, & we are bitten again & again ( by The Serpent, a master for many)
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Date: 6/28/2022 8:01:00 PM
Your imagery is so convincing that I will need an extra blanket tonight. Robert
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Date: 6/28/2022 1:52:00 PM
Your storm imagery is very striking, Ann. It gave me chills, almost surrealism. Good writing.
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Date: 6/28/2022 1:42:00 PM
Your poem has the power of a storm, Ann. Exquisite imagery! Bill
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