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nicholas-cPoems
In the fog streetlight glow: Will-o-the-Wisps Embers wrapped in gauze harsh yellow light spills into grey monotony The world has shrunk confined to the pools cast by floating lamps All else is a faded grey blur A stagnant breeze stokes the down air into writhing ethereal vines   Vision clouded permeated by whisper mist caressing   Everything is painted mute a drear uneasy blanket cast into the valley I drift strung along by the luminous spectral splashes Unseen Unnoticed a smudge in a world of vapor Am I anymore definite than the intangible fog? March today despite being January At least  a good day for a walk Ice in sepia speckled with black wilted under the Water’s surface Ridges and islands            of white ice protrude from the murk Delicate ripples roil from inky black wells Drab and tattered the snow trodden grass sways in the wind Murk Murk The color of tea steaming Chai In a floral mug A warm up from the chill   walk I drink down to the dregs satisfied   It’s still March as if January resigned early and February forgot to come Forty Degrees clad in shorts and sweatshirt, I walk   Air perfumed by thawing soil and melted pond pools painted robin’s egg blue Ice bent trees bow towards the road like children’s hands Reaching towards pothole puddles with trickles trailing like balloon strings Reflecting the sky inverted vignettes Caste in brown Framing the trees skeletal fractal fingers reaching across the tableaux Peering through the clouds the Sun silhouettes black bottle brush pines
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
Weekend Snapshots
In the fog streetlight glow: Will-o-the-Wisps Embers wrapped in gauze harsh yellow light spills into grey monotony The world has shrunk confined to the pools cast by floating lamps All else is a faded grey blur A stagnant breeze stokes the down air into writhing ethereal vines   Vision clouded permeated by whisper mist caressing   Everything is painted mute a drear uneasy blanket cast into the valley I drift strung along by the luminous spectral splashes Unseen Unnoticed a smudge in a world of vapor Am I anymore definite than the intangible fog? March today despite being January At least  a good day for a walk Ice in sepia speckled with black wilted under the Water’s surface Ridges and islands            of white ice protrude from the murk Delicate ripples roil from inky black wells Drab and tattered the snow trodden grass sways in the wind Murk Murk The color of tea steaming Chai In a floral mug A warm up from the chill   walk I drink down to the dregs satisfied   It’s still March as if January resigned early and February forgot to come Forty Degrees clad in shorts and sweatshirt, I walk   Air perfumed by thawing soil and melted pond pools painted robin’s egg blue Ice bent trees bow towards the road like children’s hands Reaching towards pothole puddles with trickles trailing like balloon strings Reflecting the sky inverted vignettes Caste in brown Framing the trees skeletal fractal fingers reaching across the tableaux Peering through the clouds the Sun silhouettes black bottle brush pines
I wrote about things I would have snapped a picture of if I had a camera with me
#nature#beauty#outdoors#walking
nicholas-c
Written by
nicholas-c
American
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 6:24 PM UTC
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