Poetry

Lady Sidhe · 01-31-2004, 09:48 PM

Another one from poetry class...just in case you're wondering, the instructor didn't believe in rhyme, or abstraction in poetry...

Winter Storm

With old, arthritic fingers
the half-naked tree
clutches the dirt-brown
wrinkled leaves,
like remnants of tattered clothing
fluttering in the frigid wind,
as if to shield itself from
the cutting crystal tears
wept by the shivering sky.
A half-cradled bird's nest,
abandoned,
is perched in the crook of Tree's arm,
rocked precariously with each rough breath.
The empty feeder flings back and forth,
like a swing out of control;
The Wind nibbles and chews...
Tree is losing.

28 Oct. 1992
Sidhe

01-31-2004, 09:48 PM	#1
Lady Sidhe That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.... Join Date: Nov 2003 Location: Hammond, La. Posts: 978	Another one from poetry class...just in case you're wondering, the instructor didn't believe in rhyme, or abstraction in poetry... Winter Storm With old, arthritic fingers the half-naked tree clutches the dirt-brown wrinkled leaves, like remnants of tattered clothing fluttering in the frigid wind, as if to shield itself from the cutting crystal tears wept by the shivering sky. A half-cradled bird's nest, abandoned, is perched in the crook of Tree's arm, rocked precariously with each rough breath. The empty feeder flings back and forth, like a swing out of control; The Wind nibbles and chews... Tree is losing. 28 Oct. 1992 Sidhe __________________ My free will...I never leave home without it. --House Someday I want to be rich. Some people get so rich they lose all respect for humanity. That's how rich I want to be. -Rita Rudner

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