deepundergroundpoetry.com
Snow
Looking at the snow,
staring out this window,
gentle wind blows,
the snow...
...in different directions,
no specific intentions,
landing randomly,
seemingly inconspicuously.
The trees are bare,
icy cold glare,
from old Mr. Winter.
Sounds absorbed and insolated,
by the snow covered hill,
leafless weeds almost still.
White, fluffy, untouched,
loving this vantage point much,
it's such,
a wonderful feeling of love.
I feel compassion,
and also satisfaction.
Single fence post,
standing by its lonesome,
like a brave soul,
out in the cold,
as the wind blows,
tossing about the snow.
© Steve Bertrand aka. stevieb 20110202
staring out this window,
gentle wind blows,
the snow...
...in different directions,
no specific intentions,
landing randomly,
seemingly inconspicuously.
The trees are bare,
icy cold glare,
from old Mr. Winter.
Sounds absorbed and insolated,
by the snow covered hill,
leafless weeds almost still.
White, fluffy, untouched,
loving this vantage point much,
it's such,
a wonderful feeling of love.
I feel compassion,
and also satisfaction.
Single fence post,
standing by its lonesome,
like a brave soul,
out in the cold,
as the wind blows,
tossing about the snow.
© Steve Bertrand aka. stevieb 20110202
Published 4th Sep 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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