Walking on Frost

He knew the fragility of frozen grass  

Cells thin as a skin of glass

when trod upon, they break

shards of wet ice crushed into green Slurpies

Not good for lawns


My puppy’s paws left mitten-size tracks

dark green patches on white

Beside her paw-spotted trail, my angel

spread green wings and skirt

I couldn’t wait for snow

That was when he said “Don’t walk on frost”

That was a long time ago


This morning’s dawn woke to me walking the paths

 Following, my old dog chose the frosted grass

No mitten marks from her

just two green trails – silhouettes on white

parallel stories of arthritic joints

dragging her feet like an old woman


Crystal-dusted shrubs frosted with fog

caught my attention

I stopped

Gradually my shadow appeared

long and slippery

and buttery heat stroked my back

as the faceted ice began to dance

for the sun

glittering splintered rainbows

until spent

Crystals died in the warmth of morning

Just like him


Parallel trails

mitten-paw tracks

green angels and memories

wait upon patience

for winter’s next

walking on frost


   Jingle Poetry     Thursday Poets Rally week 36


           One Shot Wednesday

Photo courtesy of Google Images: http://footprintsofabackpacker.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/P1020315.jpg



Filed under Poetry

53 responses to “Walking on Frost

  1. Pingback: Agreement 4 Thursday Poets Rally Week 36 Participants | Promising Poets' Parking Lot

  2. stunning image on top,
    perfect words matching it.
    thrilled to have you in.
    have a smiling moment of 2010 before turning to 2011…

    your poetry rocks..
    keep it up.
    have fun in the rally.

  3. Pingback: Thursday Poets Rally Week 36 (December 29, 2010-January 5, 2011) | Jingle

  4. This was so touchingly beautiful. So lovely–your memories.

  5. A sensual journey through a winter wonderland vibrant with metaphorical innuendo and creative, melancholic symbolism. Loved this memory flashback!

  6. I have read some amazing poetry today and I have to say that this should be among those at the top of the list. The beauty of nature accompanied by the tender story of a dog loved and lost. So many emotions…it just doesn’t get better than this.
    Happy New Year.

  7. tone, diction, imagery — all splendidly work to create this stunning, moving piece!

  8. Joy and sadness mingled together in this piece, but there is peace and it flows as I read…a pleasure to read. 🙂

  9. i didn’t take a single breath reading those last two stanzas cause i feared it would break the spell of your words..this was beautiful
    wishing you a fantastic and poetic new year

  10. smiles. a beautiful capture of nature…which i love to be in…wishing you a happy new yar as well…

  11. satanshotel

    An excellent and emotional piece. I enjoyed this greatly.


  12. actober

    this is art. loved every line. especially studying the beauty part.


  13. Sam373

    Too often I’ve felt like a frozen blade of grass!
    Well felt and conveyed.

  14. I found the rainbows that sparkled through the frost and ice as the sun shone round this entire piece. A painting in white and pinetree green. Beautiful! Gay @beachanny

  15. carolyn cochran

    Beautiful imagery to fuel my appreciation of the cold winter. Thank you, Cindy,

  16. absolutely exquisite friend. beautiful poem.

  17. This is one of the most best imagery I have seen in writing 🙂 I really love it!

  18. That is beautiful and touching. It really pulled at the heartstrings.

  19. beautiful imagery and a lovely tribute to a beloved pet.

  20. The image and the poem are awesome! Thanks for sharing.

  21. Chloe

    A wonderful poem and one that really pulls on the heart strings; I love the winter and the way the snow and frost play with nature, and I also love my little dog who almost does cartwheels when she sees the snow…this reminded me of both. Thank you! xx

  22. Barbara

    “Crystal-dusted shrubs” “memories”… I melt into your images….

    • Thank you, Barbara! I can’t thank you enough for posting the link to the website with the birdsong on your blog. I have added it to my favorites – a wonderful way to lift the spirits and enter the woods when I’m stuck at my desk writing to deadlines. What a lovely gift. When I finish this manuscript at end of Jan, I look forward to visiting your pages, sitting down with a big pot of tea, and treating myself to a lovely long read.

  23. “I couldn’t wait for snow / That was when he said “Don’t walk on frost” / That was a long time ago”

    As I read these lines, your poem handpicked a childhood memory from the depths of my brain of the winter day my father told me I was too old to hold his hand.

    Beautiful work!

    • Thank you, Aleza. I read your comment and had to stop. It took my breath away. The phrase “too old to hold his hand” dropped on me like a ton a bricks, just as it dropped on the child of your memory. One day your father will be an old man, if he lives that long. I wonder, will there be a hand to hold his then, or will he be too old to be touched? My father dropped me when I was too young. I learned from necessity to become a survivor. Before Dad died, I went to visit him. I hadn’t seen him in many years. He was blind by then, from diabetes. We sat facing each other, knees touching, holding hands, and his eyes searched for me, his youngest child, now a middle aged woman. “I used to love to hear you sing that song about the flowers and the soldiers,” he said. So I sang it for him, “Where Have All The Flowers Gone?”
      After Dad died, he confirmed many times that he was with me now. Still holding my hands, still looking out for me when all those years, I thought he hadn’t cared. I’m sure your Dad loves the way you write and turn words into magic.

  24. Pingback: Soaring Talents in Poetry Rally Week 36: You Got 2 check Them Out! | Promising Poets' Parking Lot

  25. Beautiful and sad…but somehow, not sad. I was waiting for you to lie down and make another angel, but the shrub shadow was amazing. Thank you.

    • Thanks for dropping in Michael, and for your sweet comments. It never occurred to me to make an angel that morning. I must be getting old; somehow it now sounds far too wicked. Maybe I will. Maybe next time, I’ll just get out there and make my angel and kill that grass. When spring comes, she’ll appear all yellow on the green turf and someone will find her and call the TV news to come out and film the miracle. 🙂

  26. beautifully written yet most bittersweet … love the imagery painted!

    • Thank you for your comments; I visited your site and I love the invitation to comment on your art – I will go there tomorrow when I’m fresh and give you my reactions; What a wonderful way to engage people in the creative process!!

      • Thank you for visiting and leaving your first comment. I am delighted you wish to return … you are most welcome to – anytime!! Have a great night! Many blessings!!

  27. A beautiful painting etched with just the right shades of expressions. The passage of time, the cycle of seasons, loss, wistfulness ..everything presented through that walk on frosted grass. Really beautiful:-)

  28. Pingback: “Frosty” sandwich « onmydish

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