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This is a poem about a winter Still Life. |
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Still Life Painting
The still life painting is
Slowly surfacing
To the top of
The dappled, sparkling snow.
Clumps of grass
Hide themselves
Like rabbits ‘neath the
Sleeping trees.
Shadows shimmer
To and fro
As a breeze
Flutters softly by.
Birds hop atop
The crusty surface
Leaving tracks
Showing their exploring.
Wings open
Catching cold air
Lifting to a branch
To examine their prizes.
Branches bounce, as they
Crack the precious shells
Of the newly found seeds
And savor the meats within.
Winter blue sky
Smiles on the scene below
Knowing that
Life isn’t still at all.
2010 © Dawn L. Huffaker
All rights reserved.
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New Poetry by Dawn Huffaker
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