Saturday, January 15, 2011


Still imaginings of life suspended
beyond this hard shell of walls at dawn.
A pure white world lies without
warm eider down within.

A rumble and a growl intrude
to pierce the peace, to force a pass
as plow plunders the sleep of beauty
in her mantle of white.

Then echoes from the labyrinth:
the clang of sword as plowshares
does it forge to plunge in turn the
sphere of earth awakened under snow.


  1. This is really beautiful, Ann. We have a mantle of white here in Ohio, as well.

  2. Thanks Tess. So much snow this year reminds me of many years ago. We expect twenty or so inches again next week.Words seem to flow more readily in its quiet isolation.