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Frozen Pines

I hold tight

By Jeffrey SparksPublished 2 months ago Updated 2 months ago 1 min read
Frozen Pines
Photo by Brendan Beale on Unsplash

I breathe air, stagnant, stale,

and bow my head to celestial Frost.

I tip my hat to his Eastern crown

but dare not accede from my Throne.

“Tell me sire, why have you come,

so sudden, cold—

on my doorstep and in my home?

And do you carry sticks

or cast stones?”

But he said no words and only stares for now,

spikes and crescents resting as

ice sickles above his brow.

And so I wait

for the avalanche to come down

with its white blankets to flood the ground.

I brace for Earth to shake and tremble the frozen, crystal pines.

I hold tight.

Thank you for taking the time to read “Frozen Pines.” If you enjoyed my work and want to read more, please check out “Panes of Glass,” which was featured as a Vocal Top Story!

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performance poetry

About the Creator

Jeffrey Sparks

Adversity is kindling I choose to burn to keep my hands warm in winter ensuring my words will stretch beyond the years that turn my bones to dust.

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