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The Legacy of Snow (1 Viewer)

Darkkin

WF Veterans
The Legacy of Snow


Where is the legacy of snow to be found?
In the delicate tracery of lace, remnants,
of the fabled Snow Queen’s bridal veil?

Is it high in the nimbus vaulted ceilings,
ethereal domes painted in constellations,
cathedrals built by the Mistral’s bluster?

In the tatters? Snowflakes without mooring,
those derelicts, riding a sea of bitter currents,
soaring and adrift, counter to gravity’s sway.

Does the legacy sail with that harsh wind,
only to wreck as Longfellow’s Hesperus?
Where is the legacy of cold Boreal North?

Is it borne within the breath of a child,
a soft warmth upon a frost glazed pane,
paisley forming where a fractal had been?

Icy fingers, small hands cold to the bone
trace the feathers of the fog—That child,
whose touch does not damage the frost—

It is here, the legacy rests, a finite moment,
preserved by the memories of cold hands—
Cold hands, refuge from his calloused hands.

Thoughts, these words without purpose,
all that remains, a legacy built of snow.
 

Mark Hix

Member
I like it! I read it a couple of times. I especially like the visual imagery:

Is it borne within the breath of a child,
a soft warmth upon a frost glazed pane,
paisley forming where a fractal had been?


 

apple

WF Veterans
Darkkin, this truly is a beautiful poem. The legacy, or gift, that snow leaves us runs the gamut. Visually, emotionally, so tactile, and memory laden. I felt warmth in your soft flowing poem. So pretty. Thank you
 
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