Before the snow, the fear
of being homebound
with only my thoughts,
my brain overfilled with time
like too much fodder in the shock.
After the snow, the fear
is realized, the mind stutters,
eyes scour the same walls
for a change in landscape
when out of the tundra
comes the sound of nothing,
the distant buzz
behind the bunker of winter,
the pang of pins dropping
like long thoughts falling
into snowy stillness—
Phil Lane, New Jersey, USA
4 comments:
Phil Lane is an English teacher, writer, and animal lover with a man-crush on Bob Dylan. His work has appeared in various little-known magazines over the past five years. He lives in Northern New Jersey, about an $11 train ride from New York City.
That last line is a killer.
I like the phrase, "the mind stutters" and "the pang of pins dropping like long thoughts."
Lovely poem here.
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