It's Still Life

poetry and prose

Twiglet #60

Deep

It’s the last
finger of winter scouring
the moon full and flat.

I swept tongue-cold
spiderwebs from the air
this morning. Wisps

of meadow fog
on the drift,
cat-whisker soft.

It’s a boundless deep.

 

 

Twiglet #60: a boundless deep

Misky

9 responses to “Twiglet #60”

  1. Maureen Sudlow avatar
    Maureen Sudlow

    beautiful – love the ‘tongue-cold spiderwebs’

    Like

    Reply
    1. Misky avatar
      Misky

      Thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  2. whimsygizmo avatar
    whimsygizmo

    Misky, this is simply breathtaking. That first stanza. Those “tongue-cold spiderwebs.” Oh, my. I am chilled to the bone, just reading this.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Misky avatar
      Misky

      We’re dressed in multilayers it’s so cold here.

      Like

      Reply
  3. Jules avatar
    Jules

    “of meadow fog
    on the drift,
    cat-whisker soft.”

    If I had to pick a favorite line.
    I am so looking forward to being out of winter’s boundless deep!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Misky avatar
      Misky

      I’m looking forward to that, too. The crocuses are ready to open though, so hope reigns.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      1. Jules avatar
        Jules

        No such luck here… maybe in March.

        Liked by 1 person

        Reply
  4. Candy avatar
    Candy

    your phrases are boundlessly good

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Misky avatar
      Misky

      Thanks, Candy.

      Like

      Reply

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