January 9, 2013

Wind Chill


The role of Stone is that of Ice
But seeks a slower sun.
To Synapse, Stealth Invisible,
Concision to the Bone.
The praying hands of branches bared
By Breath, this season's Star,
Implore insensate, arrogant,
As snowflakes to the Fire.
Above the church a fist of smoke
Diminishes the Blooms
Within that Park where prayers revolve
On a Carousel of tombs.

-- Gerard Van der Leun

Posted by gerardvanderleun at January 9, 2013 12:42 PM
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"It is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood." -- Karl Popper N.B.: Comments are moderated and may not appear immediately. Comments that exceed the obscenity or stupidity limits will be either edited or expunged.

Your best poetry is written in ice with a soft mallet, Gerard. Quit choking me up like that.

Posted by: Jewel at January 9, 2013 3:10 PM

Thanks. I've signed it to clear this up.

Posted by: vanderleun at January 9, 2013 6:43 PM

Love the poetry, Gerard. Also congrats on the Best Essay Blog award. You've been the site I save for last in a reading and scanning session. I save it to savor it. BTW, how's the health?

Posted by: Mark Nicolas at January 11, 2013 8:00 PM