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
4 Thursday Poets Rally week 36
And
One Shot Wednesday
Photo courtesy of Google Images: http://footprintsofabackpacker.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/P1020315.jpg
Brokenpenwriter's Blog 
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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.
🙂
Thanks Jingle – let’s just hope it doesn’t melt. 🙂
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This was so touchingly beautiful. So lovely–your memories.
A sensual journey through a winter wonderland vibrant with metaphorical innuendo and creative, melancholic symbolism. Loved this memory flashback!
Thank you Gemma for your very kind words. Thanks for ending my year on such a lovely note!
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.
Victoria
tone, diction, imagery — all splendidly work to create this stunning, moving piece!
Joy and sadness mingled together in this piece, but there is peace and it flows as I read…a pleasure to read. 🙂
Thank you, Eaton. I appreciate your reaction – it’s just what I was hoping to convey
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
Thanks Claudia. You can breathe now. Please. 🙂
smiles. a beautiful capture of nature…which i love to be in…wishing you a happy new yar as well…
An excellent and emotional piece. I enjoyed this greatly.
Thank-you!
Many thanks for visiting!
this is art. loved every line. especially studying the beauty part.
http://actoberreid.wordpress.com/2010/12/31/week-11/
Thank you! We are often attracted to what we already are. In your case, beauty. Keep up the good work
Too often I’ve felt like a frozen blade of grass!
Well felt and conveyed.
Brrrrr. I hope spring comes soon for you. 🙂
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
So glad you enjoyed this Holly. Thanks for your comments
Beautiful imagery to fuel my appreciation of the cold winter. Thank you, Cindy,
So glad you enjoyed this. I hear you’ve been enjoying your garden for the last 2 days. Well Done!
absolutely exquisite friend. beautiful poem.
Thank you, hush moon. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
This is one of the most best imagery I have seen in writing 🙂 I really love it!
Thanks, Lucky! Images always speak more than ideas.
That is beautiful and touching. It really pulled at the heartstrings.
I’m so glad you like it. Heart strings need regular playing or they get brittle
you’re a great writer! thanks for sharing!
Thank you, Ms Peaches. Love that name. I look forward to visiting your site.
beautiful imagery and a lovely tribute to a beloved pet.
Thank you, lola mouse. I loved your flash fiction. I tried to comment but it wouldn’t take. I’ll try again now.
The image and the poem are awesome! Thanks for sharing.
Muchas gracias, Lu Ann.
Just beautiful…
Thank you, Talon
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
“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.
“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.
Thank you for this. It truly touched me!
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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. 🙂
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!!
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:-)
Thank you, my friend, for walking on frost beside me.
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