A bone-numbing chill
Flows from the mountains
And into the valleys
Where sycamores stand
Bare
Their brown bark shed
Like sunburned skin
Their limbs stretch skyward
Like fingers of a skeleton
Soon
Snow will come
Blanketing all
In stunning white
Tom Davis lives in Webster,
NC and his work has been published in numerous venues. He authored several
books which can be found at http://www.oldmp.com Tom has recently
completed his memoir, The Most Fun I Ever Had With My Clothes On: A
March from Private to Colonel. Tom is the publisher for
Old Mountain Press since 1992.
Tom, I just read about the warmth of spring, which was lovely and yet in an instant it is winter and the chill permeates my bones. But isn't that the way of life? Time flies on wings of lightning and winter comes on all too quickly, yet the hope of spring comes with it too. Thank you for the well written picturesque poem. I really did love it, (in spite of the fact I am now cold). :D
ReplyDeleteSincerely, Charlene
brrr, you paint such a vivid picture here
ReplyDeleteThis is an excellent piece, I really enjoyed it a lot, thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteDear Tom,
ReplyDeleteYour beautiful poem is written with a lot imagery. Thanks for your contribution.
Best wishes,
Inge
loved the layout and imagery in this--sycamore trees have a special dignity you captured with this poem
ReplyDelete