Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Ice Age

Little Bear's tears
have turned to glass
on his cheeks.

Webs of frost
cover the palm trees
and waves of ice are frozen
along the shore
where the gulf stream
finally rolled over.

The city looks like
a construction of sugar cubes,
shrouded in shades
of gunmetal and lead.
The day star's brightness
is concealed by
unremitting gloom.

This is what is manufactured
from free will -

funeral sky and sea of ice,
too cold to break
upon the world.


Blogger Chris Never said...

Wow , the opening section of this just grips the readers attention, it is such a beautiful image.

I really liked this piece Moon, only suggestion is about the last stanza, broken and break in the last two lines, maybe a small change? but other than that, wow as previously stated :)

11:56 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

thanks bunny :)

I'll look at that

6:59 PM  

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