-
Sitting on a hard grey chair,
In an empty house, and
Waiting.
Waiting for the clouds to break,
To sift and shower snow.
Nothing left to pass the time,
No cure for being
Bored.
Bored with dry and dull routine,
And waiting for the snow.
Listening, listening for clouds to open,
But they all seem
Frozen.
Frozen, still in time and place, and
Frozen, packed with snow.
Sighing, sinking, staring at
The ceiling, bare and
White.
White and stark and cold,
And colder than a moonless night.
Slipping off to sleep,
Still feeling restless, feeling
Hopeless.
Hopeless, hope yet lost too soon!
Waiting through the afternoon,
Closed up in that dreary room,
Sleeping till the rising moon,
I'd missed the falling snow.
- by Arztin Wer |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 01/31/2014 |
- Skip
- Title: Listening for the Snow
- Artist: Arztin Wer
- Description: A short poem in partially rhyming free verse, reflecting on the consequences of losing hope too soon (and the foolishness of listening for the snow instead of actually looking out the window for it...). It isn't my best, but I thought someone might like it.
- Date: 01/31/2014
- Tags: patience waiting snow hopelessness metaphor
- Report Post
Comments (0 Comments)
No comments available ...