Cold, Colder, Even Colder
A cold wind comes creeping along the ridgeline
Listen as it whistles through the ice covered branchy trees
A powerful force which only nature can possess
Silvery birches bending far but never breaking
Russian olives desperately hanging on to their frozen fruit
Towering oaks and maples surrendering scaffold limbs
A roaring crack and they crash to the ground
Hard-packed snow unmercifully awaits their landing
Sounds of the shattering sticks echoing across the landscape
A cloud of frozen white, and then nothingness
The breath of the gods rolls past, looking for another victim
Elemental cold plays the role of ally
Plummeting temperatures drink up ambient moisture
And dryness creeps into the abandoned spaces
Weakening the elders, beeches, and blackthorns
Tempting the elms and sycamores to bend or break
All those which tower high in jeopardy
The moon stares down on the fruit trees, keeping watch
As the greyness above bleeds into blackness
Apples and plums nestled close together in their groves
They’ve traded a towering stature for security
Gnarled branch collars of past broken limbs
Constant reminders that winter will have its payment
White accents against the darkened trunks
Delicate and beautiful artworks of frozen fog
And the magestic pines, anchored across the ridge line
Noble fir trees, aspen, and spruce
Refusing to shed their needles or color
Staring defiantly in the face of the storm
Roots deep and spread wide for stability
And as the grey relinquishes totally
The land is shadowed in a frozen nightscape
Tall sentinels braced for the next icy blast
Facing off again and again until morning comes
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Nicely written with rich detail and imagery Ralph, makes you cold just reading it. And here am I in heat waves; go figure. Some great phrasing and so well expressed, we experience all you see. Great work my friend.
Nicely penned and great imagery. Felt colder with each line. Your poem I read as I was looking out my window at the snow piled outside and more flakes coming down.
Oh so vividly do your poetic phrase paint a marvelous yet treacherous nightscape, Ralph. So cold, I can almost feel the icy winds.
I’m finding this Idaho winter to be one of the coldest I can remember – instead of complaining, I’m going to find the interesting wrinkles in it and write about them.
Excellent imagery in this piece, perfect title for this as I felt the temperature drop with each line. Tall sentinels bracing…and some inevitably breaking. We have had a more milder winter in the northeast so far. Nothing crazy for snow and the temps are mild at best. I do despise cold, but the majesty of snow cannot be denied. Great work Ralph~Paul