Thoughts on Winter, without using winter words

Version of Winter

 Translucent skin
once rosy, elastic,
pales– planed down
to final
Essence on surface,
age spots skim veins.
Sheets white,
pillow thin,
twig stretched arms
like child-drawn
stick figures,
Rattling sounds
of old windows
fighting wind.



Written for

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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7 Responses to Thoughts on Winter, without using winter words

  1. Misky says:

    There are some wonderful lines in this piece, pillow thin being one of my favourites. Very nicely done. And SOOOO fast, too!


  2. margo roby says:

    This is why I love this exercise. Look at your imagery, how vivid, fresh, original it is and how powerful the poem is.


  3. twig stretched arms…love that Sara!


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