Poems on the topic: snow

Poems on the topic “snow” on Poets.by.

ContemplativeDave Bonta

The snows of yesteryear

This is no winter in which I am snow under the barber’s hand but a sack of hard time, late and gone. I read a clock with pleasure after that.
CheerfulDave Bonta

Divided loyalties

white Christmas the dog desiring both to be out and in
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Piscine

In the old snow, a fin, a life-like fish. I am my papers, like a house where there was but one supper.
CheerfulDave Bonta

Inside and out

All day a cat and the snow by themselves were merry.
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Double take

O my fat snow, turn my great neglect to joy. I have seen that I did not see the home I made and the home I sat in, a pair of gloves and a pair of stockings, an art, her gift…
CheerfulDave Bonta

Above and Beyond

My cousin snow and my father rain come with a letter from my brother the angel: Buy others a home, look after workmen, trouble the parliament.
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Ursus maritimus

A white bear catches dinner, very hungry: snow at sea.
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Quietist

having been the barking dog that could not sleep I believe as well as a bell in the discourse of snow
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Thanksgiving Fisher

all around the great dead oak as darkness falls a fisher dances hunting white-footed mice a dark sine curve against the snow that is also somehow able to freeze for long minutes crouching pouncing coming up empty it is only i sitting across the frozen pond who leaves feeling fuller than before filled i suppose with seasonally appropriate gratitude
SadDave Bonta

Summer Postmortem

summer is dead i found her green leaf body at the foot of an oak in the first snow blanketing the valley the smell of diesel 100 feet downridge there’s a fallen nest woven from strips of wild gravevine bark the trees are becoming more and more vacant though they shriek and moan in the wind i remember what jesus said about new wine
DreamyDave Bonta

Horizontal

it’s easy to stop seeing what’s on the horizon people in the valley don’t really believe in it what summer makes seem no less than a mountain winter shows as it is no more than a hill from my front porch a sudden influx of sky after the leaves fall look it’s snowing the flakes come to settle in their multitudes well into the evening lightness piling up
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Spring snow: sixteen snapshots

Spring snow: the night before, I woke to the sound of swans Spring snow: the spicebush outside my window captures more & more of the sky Spring snow: one mourning dove adds an extra half-note Spring snow: the soft ground sinks under my boots Spring snow: last year’s stalks of Oswego tea don fresh caps Spring snow:

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