Tag: Writing

“The Edge of Bloom”

Rookery at John Street Wikimedia Commons 2
The Edge of Bloom

Almost, at this moment:
no matter how feeble the light
upon the trees,
despite this night benumbed,
there are buds that tiptoe
at the pinnacle of jagged cliffs,
careening
at the edge
of bloom —

this miracle,
this dance of beauty
cannot be halted,
cannot be restrained.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

*** Image by Wikimedia Commons

“The Sound of Snow”


The Sound of Snow

Lace and flannel fall
on February ground,
like flocks of woolen lambs
huddled
upon the leafless hills—

Tell me,
can you hear the sound of snow,
catch the tranquil meekness
quite unlike

the clamor of rain
or the tumult of sleet,
horse hoofs that trample
the cobblestones —

garments with diamonds
descend,
clothe the naked branches,
there are no echoes
from their voiceless song,
no footsteps
to their elegant
dance.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

*** Photography: Winter Trees by T. Frarug

“Porcelain Morning”


Porcelain Morning

Kinder still the porcelain morning:
kaolin clay
baked in the kiln of the evening
sun,   cleansed
of the dross of darkness,
translucent resonance,
impermeable
white.

Pink peonies await
and the glossy leaves —
choose your colors,
paint
with care.

by D. G. Vachal © 2013

*** image by TTor