Photography Blog from ON.ca.

Posts tagged “poetry

How Winter Dies

 

You ask me how does Winter die ?

I will tell you.

Winter dies in a hard gritty heap –

Spilling wet memories into

Tiny pools of cold reflections

That  escape into the warming air.

That is how Winter dies.

 

You ask me how does Winter die ?

I will tell you.

Winter dies crying frozen tears

That fall into tiny pools

That hide from the gathering rays of the sun –

Timidly reflecting the strength of the warming sky.

That is how Winter dies.


Winter Solitude

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I saw the city’s towers on a luminous pale-grey sky;

Beyond them a hill of the softest mistiest green,

With naught but frost and the coming of night between,

And a long thin cloud above the colour of August rye.

 

I sat in the midst of a plain on my snowshoes with bended knee

Where the thin wind stung my cheeks,

And the hard snow ran in little ripples and peaks,

Like the fretted floor of a white and petrified sea.

 


   And a strange peace gathered about my soul and shone,

As I sat reflecting there,

In a world so mystically fair,

So deathly silent–I so utterly alone.

Winter-Solitude

Lampman, Archibald (1861 – 1899)

 

 

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Broken Memories

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Standing outside the Veterinarian’s office on a Saturday –

taking random photos,

keeping my mind on composition and lines.

 

Will have to comeback later,

alone at home when the call comes –

an unexpected outcome,

the cat would not be coming home.


 

Memories & emotions break –

vivid colours and hard contrasts –

framed in a question;

How do you to tell sweet Downs daughter,

her  Zorro-cat won’t be coming home ?

 

Weeks later –

preparing images, composing lines –

still broken in hard vivid contrasts.

 

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Hoar Frost December 23 – Antique Light

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From Environment Canada Glossary :

Frost is the condition that exists when the temperature of the air near the earth or earth-bound objects falls to freezing or lower (0 °C).

Alternately, frost or hoar frost describes a deposition of ice crystals on objects by direct sublimation of water vapour from the air.

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How we mark the transitioning vapour as it falls upon our lives –  the rise and fall of the emotions as they move from light to shadow, dusk to dawn.  Language too builds layers of meaning, some buried deeply, like compressed snow, it falls then hardens in their depths, only to melt away and disappear with the changing seasons.

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Before 900 – Middle English, hor ; Old English hār ; cognate with Old Norse hārr grey with age, Old Frisian hēr grey, Old High German hēr old ( German hehr august, sublime)

adj. Hoar/Hoary

Old English har “hoary, gray, venerable, old,” the connecting notion being grey hair, from Proto-Germanic *haira (cf. Old Norse harr “gray-haired, old,” Old Saxon, Old High German her “distinguished, noble, glorious,” German hehr). German also uses the word as a title of respect, in Herr. Of frost, it is recorded in Old English, perhaps expressing the resemblance of the white feathers of frost to an old man’s beard. Used as an attribute of boundary stones in Anglo-Saxon, perhaps in reference to being grey with lichens, hence its appearance in place-names.

 

white hair’d limbs, chill’d air –

grasping at light clouded  sky’s

kiss upon the earth.

 

Winter’s sublime age –

grey with rising crystal strands,

so my face grows frost . 

Proudly lichen fiercely clings,

Counting out  bordering years.

 

 

 

 


Winter has parked the Car for the Season

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Empty parking spots

full of winter’s sharp cold edge –

busy night ahead.

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