Sunday, October 29, 2017

November picture 2017


November 2017 poem of the month





She looked up
counting the first snow flurries
twirling, some crumbling
across the blackness

thinking they could be permanent
if you could only count them
before they landed
and dissolved.

They fell the way she and
her friends fall;
light-hearted and clumsy,
the earth swept away

under their feet
like ballerinas
spinning in a dream
but instead she opened her mouth

and felt the wetness press against
her lips to make them shine,
and said “there, the flakes now live
inside me” thinking she too

could learn to fall forever
and never have to
touch the earth again,
to count and count

and swallow whole
the darkness
and dance in the air
for all time.


Steven Pelcman

Adelaide Books "like water to STONE"