Slip-sliding
Sun stretches long slender fingers
low past bole and canopy,
grasps the edges of our house
and enters forcibly,
suspending couch, table, jade
in slow amber shade.
YOU ARE READING
The Smell of Snow
PoesiaFrom my home on a tiny island, I smell snow as it begins to fall on the mountains across Baynes Sound. A smell that goes directly up your nostrils with a slight hint of metal or ozone, a bit like refrigerant. And of course I love to confirm my sense...
