
I’m sharing a poem today on the theme of light. Recent news events have been so sad and scary. I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t follow them more closely, but I find my best way to combat them, to try to change the world, is by focusing on the light. By finding joy, one friend, one poem, one kindness to a stranger at a time. When
today’s Poetry Friday host, Heidi Mordhorst at My Juicy Little Universe, invited me to post a poem about light, I decided to do a take-off on a triolet. I thought about icicles–I love them, and I think they’re gorgeous. But, really, they are kind of empty and alone. It’s the play of light and colors upon them, from other sources, that give them their beauty.
(Photo by Steven Pavlov)
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Icicles, Cold and Waiting
The roof drips daggers—icy, clear,
dark, shadowed stories devoid of light.
They long for dazzling points of cheer.
The roof drips daggers—icy, clear.
Candles, stars greet newborn year.
Icy blades beg, “Make me bright!”
The roof drips daggers—icy, clear,
with points turned stories, spilling light.
–Laura Purdie Salas, all rights reserved
Happy Holidays! And don’t forget to check out the Poetry Friday roundup!
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