winter greys
The summer blush has suddenly drained away, been sucked up by the mahogany earth, and the elegant bone structure of our Mother has been revealed, her hip and cheekbones jutting rudely where only last week there were ruddy petticoat frills. Her tendons stretch and her fingernails reach from branch-tips. The force travels up the whorlish glint of her torso drawing her skin in tight around secret animal forms.
On my daily (and increasingly short) sortie to salute the mountain I find myself in a monochrome wonderland, the bare vines swaying without moving a muscle on a platinum, gunmetal and pewter stage. My feet crunch on crystallized thyme, its aroma frozen.
There are dog bells and suddenly I hear Santa, see reindeers’ antlers in the iced branches. For a moment I am six again….
When the moment passes I feel so worn. So cold.
posted by ruth at 5:05 PM
3 Comments:
So beautiful. The words and the pictures.
I'm still trying to figure out what that frosty little piggy thing really is?
well moose that frosty little piggy thing is just that! he appeared on a vine and i liked him at once! He looks pretty contented in his glacial state too.
Post a Comment
<< Home