Saturday, December 19, 2009

gladsome tidings

The Snow is an Intelligence Officer

It’s one subtle secret agent, the snow,
dropping like a soft abductor.
I didn’t know it had this many fingers,
this many keyholes and doors.
There’s never been a mission
so openly covert, such
a pouring on of camouflage.
Flush with this cache, I assume
a new identity. I’m going to wear
a sherpa’s cap and let my hair grow long.
The world’s a mess, but not this morning.
The snow has kidnapped my opinions,
absconded with the list of wars.
The world and I pass by
the bakery window:
we never looked so pretty –
the snow is that smart.


Jim Murdoch said...

A few nice turns of phrase in this one. I particularly liked the oxymoronic "openly covert" and the whole notion of snow covering up this mess of a world. Very good.

Anonymous said...

I love the whole thing. As usual,
I wish I'd written it.

Merry Christmas, Sarah. I hope you get lots of snow.


Sorlil said...

This is great, I really love it.

Kass said...

Loved this video and poem.

Anonymous said...

It sends me back to grade school. i'm pretty sure you have the ability to transport through words than i have a fertile imagination.

thanks for the brief time away.

ron hardy said...

Fingers, keyholes, doors, abductor, makeup. Wonderful, Sarah. The Inuit would be proud of you. I can hear the snow in this. And the song stays with me. Thank you.

SarahJane said...

thanks all for reading.

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