Winterfold

by Claire Miller

This piece was born from the same prompt as Matthew Bird’s, Beginnings.
(Inspired by T.S Eliot’s The Wasteland)

April is the cruellest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land,

as if winter’s icy hand
never touched the warm earth,
and with frosted nails
grabbed either end
of the riverbed
and cracked its skin
with drought, sucking out
hues and heat, honing
something else.
The scene, blossom-white,
incomplete;
a paper version
of reality. Folds depicting the time
when time stopped. Origami
churning at the bottom of the falls.
Triangular snowdrifts on a blank sheet
of cut-out trees, and in their eaves
the bird folds hibernate,
until the first lilacs of spring
unfurl their leaves again.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s