White Poinsettia Day

By lupus tenebrae

 



Perhaps I'm into wondering,
of sequins in a day,
the ways of light refraction
and poinsettias by the bay.

The way the wind in chancing,
every scent and every chime,
can find the will to bluster
through a solitary pine.

Fumbling through nylon
and clean-as-prism snow,
 I find the words, in secret
and something I should know.

As snowflakes pool in binding
and cover every square,
I left a white remainder;
a sign I'll still be there.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2012 lupus tenebrae
Published on Saturday, December 22, 2012.     Filed under: "Reflective" and "Poetry"

Author's Note:

Something on the fly, amidst an infant form of snowstorm.
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Comments on "White Poinsettia Day"

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  • Flying indigo express On Thursday, January 1, 2015, Flying indigo express (149)By person wrote:

    Deep breath, and the visualization of standing on a colorado peak wishing for all the world that moment would continue forever. Yet here I find myself there again, thank you.

  • PoetessDarkly On Saturday, December 22, 2012, PoetessDarkly (700)By person wrote:

    awesome pen. the muse has been captured and made to write!

  • dwells On Saturday, December 22, 2012, dwells (4288)By person wrote:

    Nylon stockings perhaps, in the back of the hay wagon, those were the days!

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