hoar frost.

for "in thine own image" monthly contest

flash frozen

in the half-step moment

of recalcitrant decision

she waits

fingers caught on

cold-rimed fence links

she views trees far more idyllic

than those she's known before

she wonders how

the winter's tracings

of still clinging leaves

would feel against her cheek

anything

she supposes

to feel something

anything

she supposes

again

Reviews

[Devons]

This brandishes the feeling of sharp, cold, harsh clarity much like the frost itself. But it shows a personified perspective which embellishes that jagged-edged surface with a sense of empathy and provides the subject with soul. There is a kind of sympathy evident in this for the nature and plight of the repellent; rather like a reverse Midas Touch in the knowledge that the icy fingers of this Lady Frost are destined inescapably to kill or maim.
There is a nice openness about the poem, too, since the human way it is phrased and the inexplicit relationship it bears to the title could as well apply to an actual human type. And, on another level still, there is the subtly implied disillusion of beauty only being best appreciated at a distance, and prior to the act of physical connection and experience, which ultimately is destined to disarm it.
Rather good, of course.

[Ed Hart]

very sad; but, on the brighter side, i think you've just reinvented the barbwire fence

[Nobody.]

wow. stark and grasping....almost inward spiritual groping for the spark of a warm emotion amongst all the cold thoughts. the wintry landscape seems as much internal as external. the leaves still clinging to the trees as she is still clinging to the hope that an honest-to-God feeling is waiting for her to find it. or is she waiting for it to find her?

beautifully painful piece. it will hang in my mind for a good while.

big cheers!
and a few little tears.

[Robin]

I felt that hollow chill ..