snow used to mean
something.
like i did.
now we are
a nihilistic white
that falls and falls.
let me be broken,
a little, a fence
to keep you out,
sliding to ruin
amid the night-canals, iron-
frozen and fragile.
the high grass there
whispers shatteredly,
makes me think
of breaking glass.
there is so much
that i would break,
corazon. we fall and fall,
but there is no erasing:
the river stays dark,
and you, distant,
as if there were nothing
to hop, nothing at all.
the tenth muse 
iron-
frozen and fragile.
! ! !
Carl, are those good exclamation points or bad exclamation points? 🙂
For you only good. The snow is iron strong yet brittle as is all of humanity.
we got a ton of the white stuff….quite despairing poem….the used to mean something…the breaking, shattering…the corazon/erasing line was a powerful touch to me…lot of emotion in this one friend…stay warm
thanks, brian. we’ve got some here too, still, though it’s quickly disappearing.
shattering with it’s cold and sombre feeling. snow and your lines above. x
thanks for your kind comment!
Like the reference to canals and iron, reminiscent of nineteenth-century decay and a desolate heart.
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