Thursday, February 3, 2022


Soft Landing

Yesterday’s snow fell sharp and fast

Like the snapped off tips

Of a thousand hypodermic needles

Hurtling earthward in a rush to land.

It made the sound of sand

Sifting through an hourglass,

Each grain a piercing wound

Passing through the narrowest waist.

Ice lashed my numbed face

Like a blast of birdshot

From close range welting

Flesh already blotched and frozen.

Today, it slowly wafts down in 

Beautifully complex flakes,

Flitting in slow leisurely waltzes

Toward a landing certain to be soft. 


No comments: