Winter poem
once a snowflake fell
on my brow and i loved
it so much and i kissed
it and it was happy and called its cousins
and brothers and a web
of snow engulfed me then
i reached to love them all
and i squeezed them and they became
a spring rain and i stood perfectly
still and was a flower
"[w]hat was any art but ... a sheath, a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining, elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose." - Willa Cather, Song of the Lark
Friday, May 19, 2006
Raindrops!
After a sunny spell, the rain is back, and I thought of this poem from Nikki Giovanni:
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2 comments:
Thanks for the poem. It's raining right now in MA again, but hopefully not for long. I'm about to stand on the porch shaking my fist at the clouds like an old man. I've heard that works.
yeah, cool poem -- it's sunny today in chicago but two days ago we got HAIL. like ping pong size hail.
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