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hayley-neiningerPoems
The anvil sky— The sky that presses its weight down Heavy against the earth Compacting the old snow of winter Dense and thick and complete So tight the snow warms against itself It melts. Only for the anvil’s cold metal to Freeze the snow to ice. Locking in the roots of spring Behind dirt cast bars under Ice clear windows. Far up in the anvil sky There are tiny lights like nails Hotter than the icy metal Burning through and warming up— Small spots like holes in snow Where daises will surely grow.
0
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
Anvil.
The anvil sky— The sky that presses its weight down Heavy against the earth Compacting the old snow of winter Dense and thick and complete So tight the snow warms against itself It melts. Only for the anvil’s cold metal to Freeze the snow to ice. Locking in the roots of spring Behind dirt cast bars under Ice clear windows. Far up in the anvil sky There are tiny lights like nails Hotter than the icy metal Burning through and warming up— Small spots like holes in snow Where daises will surely grow.
hayley-neininger
Written by
hayley-neininger
American
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
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