Blizzard
Snow falls:
Years of anger following
Hours that float idly down-
The blizzard
Drifts its weight
Deeper and deeper for three days
Or sixty years, eh? Then
The sun! a clutter of
Yellow and blue flakes-
Hairy looking trees stand out
In long alleys
Over a wild solitude.
The man turns and there-
His solitary track stretched out
Upon the world.
(2 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)Similar poems:
- Dedication For A Plot Of Ground This plot of ground Facing the waters of this inlet Is dedicated to the living presence of Emily Dickinson Wellcome […]...
- The Thing Each time it rings I think it is for Me but it is Not for me nor for Anyone it […]...
- The Disputants Upon the table in their bowl In violent disarray Of yellow sprays, green spikes Of leaves, red pointed petals And […]...
- The Crowd At The Ball Game The crowd at the ball game Is moved uniformly By a spirit of uselessness Which delights them – All the […]...
- To Elsie The pure products of America Go crazy- Mountain folk from Kentucky Or the ribbed north end of Jersey With its […]...
- Complete Destruction It was an icy day. We buried the cat, Then took her box And set fire to it In the […]...
- Willow Poem It is a willow when summer is over, A willow by the river From which no leaf has fallen nor […]...
- The Last Words Of My English Grandmother There were some dirty plates And a glass of milk Beside her on a small table Near the rank, disheveled […]...
- A Celebration A middle-northern March, now as always – Gusts from the South broken against cold winds – But from under, as […]...
- Sympathetic Portrait Of A Child The murderer’s little daughter Who is barely ten years old Jerks her shoulders Right and left So as to catch […]...
- Romance Moderne Tracks of rain and light linger in The spongy greens of a nature whose Flickering mountain-bulging nearer, Ebbing back into […]...
- Overture To A Dance Of Locomotives Men with picked voices chant the names Of cities in a huge gallery: promises That pull through descending stairways To […]...
- Spring And All By the road to the contagious hospital Under the surge of the blue Mottled clouds driven from the Northeast-a cold […]...
- To A Friend Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen men-and The baby hard to find a father for! What will the good Father in Heaven […]...
- Youth And Beauty I bought a dishmop – Having no daughter – For they had twisted Fine ribbons of shining copper About white […]...
- Complaint They call me and I go. It is a frozen road Past midnight, a dust Of snow caught In the […]...
- The Defective Record Cut the bank for the fill. Dump sand Pumped out of the river Into the old swale Killing whatever was […]...
- The Poem It’s all in The sound. A song. Seldom a song. It should Be a song-made of Particulars, wasps, A gentian-something […]...
- Muier Oh, black Persian cat! Was not your life Already cursed with offspring? We took you for rest to that old […]...
- Approach Of Winter The half-stripped trees Struck by a wind together, Bending all, The leaves flutter drily And refuse to let go Or […]...
- Item This, with a face Like a mashed blood orange That suddenly Would get eyes And look up and scream War! […]...
- The Great Figure Among the rain And lights I saw the figure 5 In gold On a red Firetruck Moving Tense Unheeded To […]...
- The Term A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was Rolling with the Wind […]...
- A Sort Of A Song Let the snake wait under His weed And the writing Be of words, slow and quick, sharp To strike, quiet […]...
- This Is Just To Say I have eaten The plums That were in The icebox And which You were probably Saving For breakfast Forgive me […]...
- Heel & Toe To The End Gagarin says, in ecstasy, He could have Gone on forever He floated At and sang And when he emerged from […]...
- The Cold Night It is cold. The white moon Is up among her scattered stars— Like the bare thighs of The Police Sergeant’s […]...
- To A Friend Concerning Several Ladies You know there is not much That I desire, a few chrysanthemums Half lying on the grass, yellow And brown […]...
- To Waken An Old Lady Old age is A flight of small Cheeping birds Skimming Bare trees Above a snow glaze. Gaining and failing They […]...
- The Hunters in the Snow 1962 The over-all picture is winter Icy mountains In the background the return From the hunt it is toward evening […]...