HH ( / )


Consider my surroundings; the snow-capped lava stones
Freckling the landscape pristine, a whited glassy sheen
Glistening with reflections on a sharpened sky of blue
And shimmering with frigid stillness, sunshine no warmth bears
Rivulets amid the glacial mass keep carving through
Spilling over and under, seeping through to moss ever-dying
All within the eyes are seen, blanket of white
Atmosphere of blue and ebony pebbles
Solitary road, like a jagged incision through flawlessness,
The brutal slice, akin to one which problems lead
Guides instead to a solitary land, an afternoon mood
Where, no matter how far one walks, the snow land stays
In place: each frosty breath reawakening the passion
Simply to stay; returning is a lifelong thing at times
After arrival, all past having past needs to be reclaimed.
So many years, never having seen snow-laden fields
So many years to consider my surroundings, drinking them in
To replenish my thirst, sixty-six degrees north.

by Hunter Hansen

Comments (2)

This was a good poem Hunter. I enjoyed it very much. Just one comment. Instead of making your lines so long, why not break them in the middle. Your poem will be twice as long but easier to read. Love it. ((hugs)) Jan
Bold strokes on this canvas, 'all past having past needs to be reclaimed' super