With snowflakes in Her eyelashes,
crystalline shapes past window's door,
piling into berms and caches,
seek to fractate soil and moor;
What passing phase -- full of longing
for endless Alaskan days, so white and pure,
when silence met the sunset, dawning,
dusk, and midday -- shall I endure?
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
With snowflakes in Her eyelashes,
crystalline shapes past window's door,
piling into berms and caches,
seek to fractate soil and moor;
What passing phase -- full of longing
for endless Alaskan days, so white and pure,
when silence met the sunset, dawning,
dusk, and midday -- shall I endure?
In the noise of the city I find myself daydreaming of rural Alaska's uninterrupted solitude.
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