at midnight, with moonlight's muted cloak casing moments in weathered bone, the pine forest’s around us in bone, our nervous eyes, shifting in bone catch movement overhead, the snow shawl falling in jagged breeze, taking pattern, turns, stirs, scatters while we watch, staggered, adrift in accord. the wind slices in from over the lake, catches our breath, dragging vapor trails away and null-light shadows shift, dodge, feint in time to branches dance. the world is worlds away, all is now, stopped in locked glance.
This is the best thing I've read on this poetry board so far. It's choppy but unified, and generally balletic, if you can attribute that quality to a poem, which i think you can in this case it seems strangely fitting. It's painterly. "...trails away" what about just "away" would that fit better. The last stanza is probably the weakest although I'm tired now and can't quite articulate why... but generally great.
"the world is worlds away, all is now, stopped in locked glance." Gah, that's simply wonderful, simple yet so honest and beautiful. Those three lines really got me. And the whole piece is pretty and subdued.
Man, there's a great sense of movement in this, with the wind and shadows and such, but also a great stillness, silence and solitude. I feel alone and cold, but also very much alive. Awesome
