It's just poetry, it won't bite


11.30.14 Posted in today's words by

Peter C Venable’s most recent poem to appear here was At 5 AM.

By Peter C Venable

Last night God anointed creation
with freezing drizzle. Trees and shrubs
bowed in homage. Dark houses groaned
under thickening ice.
Roofs sagged.

Eerie, this hush–
shadows of icicles silently sawed

through whiteness until a limb snapped
and crashed on barbed wire grass.

In the basement den we huddled,
ancient hominids snuggling in caves.
Our breaths formed clouds on the ceiling
until we plummeted into melodious sleep.

Morning. Shards of light pricked our eyes.
Pushing the sliding glass open,
torrents of drops splattered everywhere

and tubes of ice exploded on the roof and deck.


Comments are closed.

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,882 other subscribers

Latest Podcast Episode
vox poetica archives
%d bloggers like this: