I've been having this obsession about the way the sky looks, lately. I can always tell how cold it is by the way the sky looks in the morning or coming home from work. The beauty of winter is that almost every day the sky looks different. So, almost every day, a new image occurs to me.
Seeking Solace at a Stoplight
Silhouette of bare
tree limbs, grasping the silver
sky. Hold me, they say.
2 Comments:
I really like this poem. I love how the trees say hold me. A good friend of mine just moved to Minneapolis and has been reporting to me on the extreme cold. Keep warm!
Beautiful. Killer last line!
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