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Winter's Melt

11.29.23

By Katrina ThornleyPublished 2 years ago 1 min read

Leaves crinkle

Their crunch a soundtrack

To the ending of a season,

A sign of change,

The warning of ends to come

And the promise of a tomorrow

The rebirth and reemergence

Of color in counted days,

Fresh green on the horizon

Of the somber days,

A flicker in the distance

Light promised after the dark

As we trudge through landscapes

Darkened by spirits

And Mother’s mourning

For all those last

From the beginning of the rotation-

Her anger at Father Time

Reciprocated in the whipping winds

And the roaring ocean breeze,

The ice shards hanging precariously

On cliff ledge

As passerby glances up

Dazzled momentarily by the sun’s reflection

Watching with a warm smile

As the water begins to drip,

A sign of warming

A sign of coming thaw-

A breath released,

Damp fog issued forth

Turning all warm blooded creatures

To magical creatures among the wood,

As they trudge on

Towards the next day

With the thought of the dripping ice

Fresh in their mind,

Cracking their own cold hearts

For the moment being.

Katrina Thornley is a nature poet. novelist, and freelance journalist that resides in Rhode Island. She has two poetry collections currently published, a novel, as well as a short story anthology. Her poetry collections "Arcadians: Lullaby in Nature" and "Arcadians: Wooden Mystics" were inspired by a local park and life in her small rural town. You can find them on Amazon now!

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nature poetrysocial commentarysad poetry

About the Creator

Katrina Thornley

Rhode Island based author and poetess with a love for nature and the written word. Works currently available include Arcadians: Lullaby in Nature, Arcadians: Wooden Mystics, 26 Brentwood Avenue & Other Tales, and Kings of Millburrow.

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Comments (4)

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  • T. Licht2 years ago

    Beautiful poem!

  • This was so beautifully written! I loved your poem so much!

  • A glistening drip of hope, a promise of things to come.

  • Dana Crandell2 years ago

    A very enjoyable read. I Like the stress on the impermanence of things.

  • A Pen

    Growing up I loved to write. I wrote stories and series for myself and it would be pages among pages of hand written stories or books. I remember I had written 500 pages of a book more than ten years ago that I still open and edit. All of these were handwritten first. I would use a paper pad and a pen. I was was always very picky when it came to using the writing equipment. My journal has a specific pen I use otherwise it feels like I had committed a crime. I once bought a Swarovski pen specially for my leather journal. The weight of it was perfect, but I had written with smoother pens before. Yet, this pen reminded me that I can sparkle too because of course it had Swarovski crystals in it. I kept it in a box that I would take out every time I journaled. This was not my favorite pen though. The easiest pen I have ever used was from a company that you could purchase from Chapters/Indigo. It was called poppin because they had used bright, fun, colors to make writing supplies wonderful. I remember the first time I used it. I was in university and was in need of very good pens because I did not have a reliable laptop to carry to my classes. I picked up the box I bought and picked one out of the box. I took the little gel bead off the top that blocks the ink. I placed it on the paper and it started to flow, it was the most pleasant feeling I felt in a long time. As soon as it touched the paper the pen wanted to write more, it wrote so smoothly I immediately hid the other pens back into my backpack so no one could “borrow” it we all know that meant you were never seeing that pen again. The ink was deliciously smooth writing across my notebook. I wanted to keep going even after I was done. I started doodling and found joy in writing again. That’s how much a pen can change your day. I know it’s such an adult thing to say. I wrote with other pens too such as the frixion pens because an erasable pen that actually erases. All that’s left is the indent on the page how ingenious! I remember in elementary they were “erasable” but you could still see remnants of blue on the page and if you wrote on top of it, it looked sloppy.

    By Ada Zuba6 days ago in Writers