A Bavarian Winter

looked outside

The Alps make me embryonic,

the King of sleep, the wind

                a sea inside my ears;

each insignificant leaf

sugar bleached,

               hard as a saint`s foot

each drop of water pearled

               and perfectly dead

under a dim sky, underlighted

              over the white sheet

              that you draw over the passed.

Let the crows pick out

the eyes of winter. 

Reviews

[SUGATA M]

Last year I visited Europe and went to Alps. I can relate my first feeling of coming close to Alps with your poem. I particularly loved the first line, 'The Alps make me embryonic,'

[Mark]

I have images of a winter cold, stark, and wet. Love the crows in the last line!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

This gave me stark mental images of the snow and icicles but in its beauty there is also the depth of regret in these crisp metaphors. A feeling of wishing the sun to return. Lovely Leslie and highly eloquent.