Writing Marathon Winter 2008
-by Lisa Fricke
Sculpted linear signs of ages past.
Pine scented laurels of green,
bow down to the skirted swirls of snow
insolating the slumbering lifelines until spring.
Gently, a neighboring ice-cold philandering stream
seduces stray branches that lie too close to resist her charms.
Listen to the watery meandering path speak of long ago
acquaintances, now peacefully mingling with mother Earth.
Soft winds whisper ancient stories back to those who dare to listen.
The Robin's egg blue sky, lures the towering trees to
proudly proclaim the marriage of heaven and Earth.