A single tear
white and crystalline
clings to the surface
making blue cold
a forest of alabaster
stands silent
almost unmoving
as air whispers dance
speaking of tales
of dead adventurers
from distant lands
stuck in time
compass frozen
before scurrying on
who will sing
a song for them now
the great polar spirit
cries alone
before leaping after
its bearded flesh

SILENCE This poem stemmed from me playing with a random word generator. I knew I wanted to write a “still” poem about the arctic but just need a few words to trigger a start even if I didn’t use them in the actual poem (which I didn’t).

Leave some word doodling!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.