Misty fog floating through
bare trees.
Cold waves of wind
coarse through the woods
whistling as they go
like the wail of a
long lost soul.
Blankets of still white snow
lay on empty fields
which open this mind
to sublime silence
giving peace to
a troubled time.
Vic Evora
8aToday is the coldest day this winter. I stayed indoors, read a book, reminisced, wrote a few lines of verse. I needed it. Nice poem BTW
Barb Clarke
8aSounds like we had the same response to the coldest day so far! Thanks for reading.
Ingeborg Von Finsterwalde/Waltraud I Mack
8aI share your eloquently expressed poem because I feel the same way. I think it makes spring so very special and so much appreciated. Keep on writing, it is so enjoyable.
Barb Clarke
8aThanks Ingeborg for your encouragement, it is much appreciated!
Francis Aparici
8aLove it!
Barb Clarke
8aThanks Francis.
Charlotte B. Williams
8aVery nice, and very true, enjoyed this.
Barb Clarke
8aThanks Charlotte, always nice to hear from you.
O.C. Bearheart
7aI love winter for exactly that: the old and quiet. I used to go walking through the woods at night in the snow just to hear the difference in the world, at how alone you seem. I was never much of a people person. But I very much enjoyed your poem.
Barb Clarke
7aBeing a people person is overrated! You are a wise soul and a gifted writer. Thanks for your reflection and reading of my poems.
J Ann Crowder
7aVery true! And there is a certain kind of beauty in winter. I think you described it well.
Barb Clarke
7aThanks for reading and your kind comment.