cronechronicler

Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte

Writing 201: Poetry – Ballad -Wintry Duel

Below zero. The morn’s frigid, ice everywhere.
Jack Frost has been at it – his art our despair.
Lacy ice tracings bring us to our knees
Engines struggle to turn over when it’s -15 degrees
Below zero.

High noon. Bright sunshine warmth becomes recompense.
Strong brilliant rays deliver defense.
Icy powers of Jack Frost let go, soon melt away.
No matter how sparkly his art holds no sway at
High noon.

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