Solid Ice

Solid Ice

It is winter, slow, solid and frozen.

Cold metal feels harder to the touch

As though frost and ice have become solid

And will no longer return to their realm.

As though water realised its dream

Of rock, hardness and permanence,

No longer dragged by gravity, moon and tide,

Always falling and falling down

While hard rock looked disdainfully on

From its high solid peaks

That so easily shrug off the passing time

And reach beyond clouds to the sky.

 

Filed under: Environment, Events, Journeys, Memory, Moments, Nature, Places, Poems, Poetry, Possibilities, Time, Water, Words Tagged: ice, poem, poetry, winter, writing