Posts Tagged ‘ snow ’

Christien Gholson – Mudlark Flash 143 (2021) – Poetry

Lament for Snow Blowing off the Roof under Grey Skies

There is loss it skins the world raw 
Sloughs off tomorrow and tomorrow blots out the stars scrapes 
	snow-dust across snow-hives 
Tears snow through snow a junco blown into last night’s window 
Unfathomable loss no raven or angel eye can plumb it

I must forget how snow can peel back the skin

This is the loss snow-dust an illusion while it happens 
Snow-dust that flies already gone 
I long for raven wing on a fence-post mice who dream 
	snow-crust into existence packrat-cell beneath 
	floorboards double oval of deer prints in mud 
	while they are still here

I must forget the snow as it falls
There is loss indistinguishable from my death who stands 
	beside me wearing a late Paleozoic snow-cloak 
When I go snow-blind there’s nothing left but voices on 
	the wind calling to themselves hunting their 
	former bodies 
Look at how they ache and cry and skin the air

I must forget how all the cats in the world lift their open mouths 
		to catch the flying snow

This is the loss standing on the shoreline with my first child 
	watching snow fall into the sea 
Whitecap-embrace of water with water thinking how many 
	times it will happen in the years to come and it has 
	not come again 
Death’s hands are cold so cold but hold me so close

I have already forgotten the murder-cry in the magpie’s 
                                  blue feather

I spin with snow-dust become snow-dust for maybe the last time 
To feel snow-dust blow through the heart into a cavern of masks 
	and stub-candles held by disembodied claws 
Our hands and tongues and thighs become shadow-mutations 
	because of such loss

How can I forget the way snow collects on your hat your 
               cheeks eyelashes brightens your eyes

This is the loss words torn off roofs names without bodies 
No I would become snow I would   
I would sacrifice my body for the body of snow the slide of 
	a blue whale’s back against ocean ice the arctic hare’s 
	leap the snow leopard’s eye from behind snow-driven 
	stone No

I will not forget

Source: christien Gholson – Mudlark Flash 143 (2021) – Poetry

come out and play – MUTTS Daily Email

Source: MUTTS Daily Email

Today’s Haiku (February 5, 2020) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

yuki shimaki hako akete mata hako ga aru

snow rage

I open a box and there is

another box inside of it

Shin Shinada

from ‘Hayabusa no Mune’(‘Falcon’s Chest’) haiku collection by Shin Shinada, Fusansu-Do, Tokyo 2011

Fay Aoyagi, translator

Source: Today’s Haiku (February 5, 2020) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

First Known When Lost: A Different World



Utagawa Hiroshige (1797-1858), “Mount Yuga in Bizen Province”



And so at last it has come.  Quietly.
Has quietly come and changed everything.
This, as we watch, is what we always say:
“It changes everything.  Now we can live.”
And we all want to walk out into it.
Walk out into it, at night, and look up,
Thinking that this world is a simple world
While all around us it never ceases.
We can walk for miles down an empty road
And see it swirl down beneath each streetlight.
We can turn and watch our path disappear.
And it continues to quietly come.
It has come, at last, and changed everything.

sip (written in February, 1994, in Tokyo).

Source: First Known When Lost: A Different World

The Silenced Muse: the Life of a Murdered Jewish Lithuanian Poet – Deep Baltic

It Was Snowing

Silver stars were falling

In the blue night…

And my land drowned

In longing for happiness…

Happiness resides somewhere

Beyond Three Hills.

Tiny bells chime softly

And my heart is calmed…

And we set out on the white road,

We walked away.

We met a white visitor

From a faraway land.

Silver stars fell

Into the blue night.

A silver star I carry

In my restless heart.

– M. Olkin [Olkinaitė is the Lithuanian version of her surname.]

Dr. Irena Veisaitė, translation

. . . a small glossary of symbols that appear in her work. The Sun (Saulė), for example, refers not just to the physical sun in the sky, but also to the Lithuanian Sun Goddess, who in our folk tales rides across the sky in a golden chariot. The Sun Goddess is one of the most important deities in the Lithuanian pantheon of gods. She brings joy, rebirth, and happiness. The stone in Matilda’s poetry is a Jewish symbol. The stone is the source of her strength as a Jew, and also represents her faith. The Three Hills in Lithuanian folklore refers to a land far away and unreachable, a land that can be dreamt of, but never reached. If one goes to the land beyond the Three Hills, one is gone forever. Dark eyes (brown eyes) refer to a Jew. Blue eyes refer to a Lithuanian. – Laima Vincė


Matilda Olkin’s short life and her poems stand as a testament that the fragile beauty of the written word gives us strength even in humanity’s darkest hour.

Source: The Silenced Muse: the Life of a Murdered Jewish Lithuanian Poet – Deep Baltic

Today’s Haiku (February 23, 2018) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

Today’s Haiku (February 23, 2018)

かた雪をほどかぬ森に銃の音  清水芳堂

katayuki o hodokanu mori ni jyû no oto

in the forest

where hard snow not loosened…

a sound of a gun

Hodo Shimizu

from ‘Haidan,’ (‘Haiku Stage’) a monthly haiku magazine, May 2017 Issue, Honami Shoten, Tokyo

translation by Fay Aoyagi                                   …

Source: Today’s Haiku (February 23, 2018) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

the neighborhood cat by Ben Moeller-Gaa Charlotte Digregorio’s Blog Daily Haiku: January 6, 2018

the neighborhood cat
come and gone
morning snow

by Ben Moeller-Gaa  (USA)

Modern Haiku, 45.2, 2014

Charlotte Digregorio’s Blog Daily Haiku: Jan. 6, 2018

William J. Higginson’s Tick, Tick – Haiku Commentary

the tick, tick
of snow on the reeds . . .
sparrow tracks

© William J. Higginson (USA)

Source: William J. Higginson’s Tick, Tick – Haiku Commentary


grazie to Vengodolmare

Donna Fleischer – Daily Haiku: March 22, 2017 | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog

Daily Haiku: March 22, 2017

under the snow

the gurgling




by Donna Fleischer

Haiku Society of America Members’ Anthology, 2003

Source: Daily Haiku: March 22, 2017 | Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog