The wind blows bumptiously through these icey peeks. Nature...she whistles through her teeth. Dark trees moan as they try to grasp the air that stirs them. Others hold up their silvery palms as if to say:'So what?' The CRACK! of a tree, drowning somewhere over there in the dim moave sea of moonlight; unheard, brushed aside, forgotten in a hushhh. Like a white ice-axe, the moon climbs steadily up a dark peak there. The stars blink in wonder as it launches into space. Takes a billion blinks. Soon...an old wind above drags over the stray grey ghost of a tidal wave: makes blacker the land and rains like ink. SHHH! Listen! Somewhere down there, in this new darkness, the lake calls for silence as it rises...
Reason for writing:
A dream
Birth sign: Cancer
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by bertie-bug box.