A grey and white canvas:
the fog lines the middle third
still and heavy, as if gravity
pulls it earthward seeping
into corners, draped on
hillsides and houses. Clouds
fill the upper third, pregnant
with snow, as still as the fog
but skybound. Against them,
moving from earth to sky,
chimney smoke curls and
coils upwards rising unbound.
4 comments:
I like the different layers. Seeping, draped, curls and coils...
Thank you, Annie. I am already reworking it in my mind to see if I want to add the bottom third of the canvas, or add a parallel to an oil painting.
...clouds fill the upper third, pregnant with snow, as still as the fog but skybound...
that line is awesome
Thank you. This is one of those rare poems that wrote itself. I am looking forward to seeing what more I can do with it.
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