Blizzard Country
By Steven Withrow
A white place you’ve come to,
After midnight’s freeze.
Rest your head on a hedgerow.
Sleep where you please.
Throw on a warmth’s worth,
A lamby balm of snow.
Your hammock a hummock of earth,
A hillock your pillow.
The cold begins to close.
Wood’s edge fades by degrees.
Your shadow now a hollow
Under ghosted trees.
© 2013 Steven Withrow, all rights reserved
11 comments:
It's mysterious and quiet, just like a snowy night, Stephen. Love that 'shadow now a hollow'. Gone, or ? Thank you!
Ooooh... yes, I'm questioning like Linda. Death? Or not death? You don't often offer the easy interpretation... ;0) Love those "ghosted trees."
I picture all the woodland creatures finding a place to hunker down in blizzards...their hammock a hummock and pillow a hillock, and they become as shadows under the shelter of those trees. It may not be what you meant...but it's what I saw!
What a mood, and yes, a bit mysterious. But I agree with Donna in seeing woodland creatures hunkering down.
Your lovely poem reminded me of the deer tracks we saw on a post-blizzard walk. Woodland creatures hunkering down in the storm, indeed.
My favorite is "Rest your head on a hedgerow/Sleep where you please."
I love the slow pace to go with the mystery in this, lovely!
Such images...I've got goosebumps - on two levels. Thanks for sharing. =)
Lovely! My favorite lines:
"Your hammock a hummock of earth,
A hillock your pillow.
"
I agree with Adromeda....I picture the deer that nestle in the woods in the countryside where I live. Not looking too deeply into the whispers of meaning. However I shall read it a few more times and see. I like your essay with the additional 5 ideas for poets and poetry critics. Though I think sites online need to clarify if they are open for critique or are perhaps for beginners or those simply interested in "giving it a go". All poets are not created equal nor are all poetry-lovers. Janet F.
My favorite line:
"The wood’s edge fades by degrees."
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