Frost
The dawn rises over the forest; the sun
awakens the frost and it disappears.
The dawn rises over the river; the water
inspects the light and it doesn’t measure up.
The grandeur of the ice is gone as it mixes
with the life-blood of civilisation.
Well there’s nothing we can do to protect you now.
My hands knead the ground – the ash and loam encase
my fingers. The soil is frozen still, but the
ice is gone.
The sunlight coaxes seedlings from the earth;
and with leafy heads, they survey the wasteland surrounds.
The sunlight shows the truth of a landscape; the chocolate
coloured soil fights the tangle of vegetation that refused to die.
The seedlings have a long way to grow and not much time –
for soon the moon will rise and the ice will set in again.
Well there’s nothing we can do to protect them now.
My hands salute the hellish moon, and I prepare
for the death that comes in the darkness. The soil
is no longer frozen, but the ice will come again.
awakens the frost and it disappears.
The dawn rises over the river; the water
inspects the light and it doesn’t measure up.
The grandeur of the ice is gone as it mixes
with the life-blood of civilisation.
Well there’s nothing we can do to protect you now.
My hands knead the ground – the ash and loam encase
my fingers. The soil is frozen still, but the
ice is gone.
The sunlight coaxes seedlings from the earth;
and with leafy heads, they survey the wasteland surrounds.
The sunlight shows the truth of a landscape; the chocolate
coloured soil fights the tangle of vegetation that refused to die.
The seedlings have a long way to grow and not much time –
for soon the moon will rise and the ice will set in again.
Well there’s nothing we can do to protect them now.
My hands salute the hellish moon, and I prepare
for the death that comes in the darkness. The soil
is no longer frozen, but the ice will come again.