Snowdrifts Poems

One Glimpse

     Bare, bony fingers probe
       nature’s naked cupboard
 
     Nary a morsel seen
       nutrition confined to dreams 

     December winds howl o’er barren ground
        January storms muffle all sound

     February thaws gurgle whispers of hope
        Crushed by March, snowdrifts abound

     Bears in hibernation, birds down south
        We humans alone, down in the mouth …

     One glimpse of Robin redbreast
        ~ no longer depressed

On A Cold Winter Day

See the snow falling 
the frozen trees sway
snowdrifts like mountains
a squirrel running
birds at the feeder

Feel a sadness
deep loneliness
thirsty for love
the pain of death

Hear music
the fireplace
the snowplows

Taste tea
brown toast

Eggs

Stranded in Peace

spring blooms lost in deep snowdrifts
black ice roads mark highest peaks
shared coats and tea in old flasks
child builds snowman in a lee

night closing in on mountain
cold is seeping into bones
spare layers of clothes shared out
prejudices not valid

morning broken by weak sun
its beauty lost on the group
stranded in bitter landscape
amongst friends of all races

in shorts and sturdy jacket
farmhand comes to the rescue
trek through green valley and dale
assist weekend bushwhackers 

to some it was a photo
in local rag or on phone
the essence was lost on most
of people stranded in peace

Writer from Within

The less
I move my lips at my 4:00 am Saturday morning sessions
The more
These words are trees standing still beside a racing river

A long way away
Freight train bores the night
Moon without light

Its alto horn
Projects from nowhere entangles everywhere

Uninhibited
By barren maples and icy roads
Abandoned homes and snowdrifts
A shadow walking his dog under planets of street lights
All powerless against the elk’s forlorn cry

The long sigh reaches me in my living room
Like a rope
Or an armored snake
That takes its slithering life with such mangled ease

Iron bolts
Shackles jolt and shudder to the lumber spindles

I have no name but I am story

Clack clack
Clack clack
Clack clack

I count the halved steps of thunder from the mysterious miles
Waning afar

As the Rolling Stones once sang Love is like our music
It’s here and then it’s gone

I am magician
Make things appear and disappear
Conjure things to move
Erase the past and future with Bastami’s ink baton

I am startled back to life

Perfect quiet

Train absent if it ever was.

Ten Ways to Awake in January

You’re a hollow tree, listening
to the tapping claws of am exposed sky.

You sit sideways staring over your shoulder.
A rib cage full of naked troglodytes
looks up into your throat.

Wintery seas leak over ice-bound rooftops.
Bedsheets come to rest as snowdrifts.

You find yourself observing the world
through the top of your head.

You find yourself reading
the pale blue veins on a frozen window.

Roads might be passable. Wind-whales plow through,
pushing insomnia ahead of them.

The cold is a color yet to be decoded,
but you breathe through it, red tongue
slipping through clouds of needles.

You count crow-calls, shiver when they stop.

The passage between you and the chill floor
is umbilical, you may have to bear down.

You skirt the edges of yourself,
until your mind thaws beneath parked cars.

Winter

Winter’s silent soul
Kisses away the darkness
With trembling flakes, snow feathers
Cardinals whisper
Blessing the breathless prayers
From hearts who feel love’s inklings

Soundless as snowdrifts
On the edge of a shadow
Caressing the mountains, the stars
Imaginations 
Lift the spirits with lights,
Dazzling rays of hopeful fires

Burning away nights
Hues of laughter, kindness sighs
Erasing the fears, the tears
Stirring memories
Moments who prick the spirit
Collecting joy, so gentle

Endless reflections
Melancholy bleeding through
Branding love onto the dream
Aching frosts, bitter
In graceful, glacial coolness
Amazing artic natures

Imagine loving,
Through the snow blanketed days
Rising to find what love means
Drifting on the stars
Enchanting hopes, glistening
Stardust winter tones, rustling

Winter subsides, soft,
As the mellow flurries, calm
Bearing the twilight season
March arrives soon, winds,
Blowing away the last gusts,
Inviting the spring’s new birth.

Marionette

A marionette to the mind,
Whispering fading schematics,
Deluging the heart and soul, in a 
Juxtaposition of good and evil, 
Betwixt Heaven and hell, amidst
Snowdrifts that swirl before my eyes, while 
Spiritless shadows restlessly carouse;
Discordantly, far from reach,
Vagrantly ambling across
Deadened Arcadias, glimpsing 
Floating embers, in wake of 
Vivid firestorms, swallowing me whole,
Faltering with every step I take,
Decelerating towards the escape I seek,
As it rhythmically scars my timorous nature, 
Awakening the monsters hidden deep within-seeing red-
Bleeding out miasmic toxins, as noxious
Spores erupt, immersed in a haze of austerity, 
While it seeps and saturates, throughout 
Malignant wounds exposed, undulating between 
The storms of push and pull, as daunting
Tasks, of rippling sequences, splits my 
Chasmic core.
Soulless footprints are all that remain, as 
Moon tides wash ashore, ebbing away
Towards dystopian depths.

Snowstorm

A white out
A snow bomb
Homes snow blanketed
Whited sepulchres
Cars abandoned
Stuck in snowdrifts
An arm sticking stiffly out
Above its embedded body
Deep in  its shroud of snow
The wind howling and keening
The banshee's delight in its kill
With the thaw 
will come the count

A Winter Storm Speaks

I am a furious force
you dare not reckon with when I am at my peak!
Assassin of startled vegetation,
I attack with no mercy or compassion.
Limbs of trees – laden with snowfall that I bring - 
snap off as easily as heads of dolls
in the hands of a psychotic child.
Such is the magnitude of my strength
at the mere exhalation of my frigid blustering breath.

I roar and I rush, and in my path of blinding white,
some on foot have lost their way -
later to be discovered (if found at all)
frozen like human popsicles, some yet to even thaw.

Most vehicles on highways have no chance with me.
Zig-zagging off roads, they land in snowdrifts.
Tires spin uselessly, and for a time,
these machines of great convenience are temporarily doomed
as their occupants shiver from cold and fear.

At my zenith, I howl and I rant relentlessly.
Pray that should you meet me
that you are not too far from any buildings.
Pray too that if you should cross my path
that you will not be stuck upon a mountain.
There is where I reign supreme,
shrouding frozen creeks, pines and rocks of cliffs
with my snowy showy glory.

Dec. 29, 2022
for the "Winter Storm" Poetry Contest of  Kim Rodrigues

The Cardinal and the Rose

He heard that she is poorly
Yet does her best to cope
Enduring life’s misfortunes
While clinging on to hope. 
She strives to beat depression
When winter’s hand turns cold
And snowdrifts wrest her freedom
She knows she’s getting old.
She yearns for rays of sunshine
(But skies are overcast)
A word of consolation
The warmth of seasons past.
He quickly goes to visit,
There finds her all alone
Lost deep in contemplation
And freezing to the bone.
Her eyes light up on hearing
His greeting wrapped in song
He says “I have so missed you
It’s here that I belong.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Cardinal & The Rose Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
          Placed 6th
© 27th December, 2022

Red Winter Roses

My arbored vines were frozen since mid-December.
The seasonal chill, no one is able to tame,
but my red winter roses, planted in September,
have profusely budded and their blooms are aflame.
Radiantly colored, their beauty wins acclaim.

Protected from the wind by a stand of bamboo,
they thrive near the garden path along the north wall.
To statuesque height, on slender jade stalks they grew,
rising like green monoliths, towering quite tall...
shielding winter roses from flurries of snowfall.

I observe the view through a frosted window pane.
Tiny snowflake crystals softly tumble aground,
waking childhood memories where emotions reign.
The setting so felicitous that I'm spellbound
watching snowdrifts as they accumulate and mound.

I have the blithe perception of a snow globe scene
in which a little girl leans on her windowsill
eyeing her snowman sparkle with a glossy sheen.
It's a picturesque theater, silent and still.
A milieu causing me to reach for ink and quill.



12/25/2022  
Emile Pinet sponsors...
A Christmas Special Poetry Contest

Snow Ploughing

arctic muskoxen 
         carve out a niche in snowdrifts ~
                  natures bulldozers


Winter Nature Themed Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin 
Howmanysyllables 5/7/5
12/08/22

Dead Winter

There walks warriors in that graveyard,
holy men and medicine women of ages.
at night you can see their spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snowdrifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her lifeless body,
down rivers and streams of remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight and burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers
in a dead winter of the unborn,
page 49 in a family album
and a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance, the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one,
the woman and the child.

One Looks Up

Monochrome winds fantail snowdrifts.
Fleck-churned sparks maw feathery flights
and a howling backdraft
spikes matted fur.
Pawing winds spring traps clenched,
injurious icicled haunches hollowed.
A smothering whiteness whistles

through yellow teeth, a smoldering
witness from snow that isn't snow,
(one homeless person's jaw drops, he looks up,)

I wolf down yogurt that drips off the plastic sides,
whitening the Los Angeles sunshine
where some homeless rest on the reflective sidewalk,
all but one, the nimbus of his mouth quakes.

Fragrant Freshness

Spring adds a fragrant freshness to the air
as earthy aromas waft 'neath the snow;
and sunlight melts away Winter's despair.

Daffodils contribute color and flare;
and as balmy breezes bashfully blow,
Spring adds a fragrant freshness to the air.

Snowdrifts dwindle to patches barely there;
and frozen rivers once more start to flow,
as sunlight melts away Winter's despair.

Wildflowers start sprouting up everywhere;
and as snowdrops, tulips and crocus grow,
Spring adds a fragrant freshness to the air

The land no longer looks so bleak and bare;
on tawny trees, green buds begin to show,
as sunlight melts away Winter's despair.

A treat to the senses, scented and rare;
bell-shaped lily-of-the-valley hangs low.
Spring adds a fragrant freshness to the air;
as sunlight melts away Winter's despair.

• Short Snowdrifts Poems
• Famous Snowdrifts Poems
• Best Snowdrifts Poems
• Read Snowdrifts Poems
• Long Snowdrifts Poems
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