Last Friday the snow began to fall and did not stop until much later in the weekend. Schools were closed for most of the week. The kids went back yesterday, but when a wintery mix was predicted for today, they were closed again. So, I write this while watching the falling snow. What other poem could possibly be on mind today?
How Is It That the SnowThe round up is being hosted by Mary Ann at Great Kid Books. Do stop by and take in all the great poetry being shared. Before you go, be sure to check out this week's poetry stretch results.
by Robert Haight
How is it that the snow
amplifies the silence,
slathers the black bark on limbs,
heaps along the brush rows?
Read the poem in its entirety.
I don't have a lot of experience with snow; it just didn't, that frequently, in Northern California, although I distinctly remember it snowing in San Francisco when I was about two. (That was shocking.) Thursday it was bright and cleared and by afternoon it was snowing. People crunched home in silent whiteness, and the city, for once, looked gorgeously clean.
ReplyDelete"Amplifies the silence" is such a perfect turn of phrase - snow creates a moment of solitude, at least for awhile.
Oh, *swoon*. I believe I'll copy this one into my new commonplace book. It's lovely. And that first stanza reminds me of the line I so love from Sting's song, "You Only Cross My Mind in Winter" - which is "the silence of the snow is deafening".
ReplyDeleteI'm heading out to tramp in that "amplified silence" in just a bit...this poem will be in my head as I walk.
ReplyDelete