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Friday, December 9, 2011

Poem of the Week, Snowdrifts, Claire Feild

It's the first snowfall of the year in Chicago! So, not quite drifts yet...but they're coming! Claire Feild also appears in Issue #14, so check that out as well.


by Claire Feild

The snowdrifts are free, a fall
into their innards a mockery
of their beauty and a greeting
to death’s polished light. Death,
a cache of homogeneous sunlight,
won’t give up His vagrant captivesunless there is more work for
them to do on earth. Death licks
His finger before tearing a page
from His vade mecum, an act of
courage, for He hopes the heaven-
bound are ready to read and
embrace His paper pleasantries
before being swept up into
heaven’s receiving blankets.

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