Faith (L. Ward Abel)

Ice trees
merge with the sky behind,
they become
whatever color. Ice
on the statuary that bows
with the weight of sleeping.
There is no sanctuary
in this scene, no cave
to fire these bones,
bones that dream of
greening come spring,
so far from here.
Now so cold.
There is no perfect storm.
Someone always
survives.

Comments

[aurora]

Darkly appealing and a perversely satisfying end.

[Jennifer]

Wow. This is powerful.

[Felicia]

Brilliant.

[Claire]

I feel the darkness.

[janet]

Yes, v. powerful.

[Robert]

Enjoyed.

[matt]

This is great.

[princess butterfly (kai)]

beautiful

[Ward]

Thanks so much, everyone. I misspelled the last word (should be "survives"), but I appreciate all your kindness.

w