This year, winter brought the din of shifting winds, leaving cold temperatures wherever it went. On Long Island, snow landed and departed in a parade of short-lived storms. Gray skies became the norm. Weather reports gained importance so I searched for one as I prepared to leave Long Island for a state education conference. My destination was an even colder spot. Listening to the meteorologist's report for Albany, NY, I braced myself for a new look at winter: dirty snow piles. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised by an incredibly beautiful scene that could change anyone's mind about snow piles.
Returning home, the gray sky and the rain washed much of what was left of the snow so I curled up reading Ralph Waldo Emerson's poem, The Snow-Storm. Struck by the word choice of the last line that evoked a vivid image, "The frolic architecture of the snow", I chose it for a strike line when writing a golden shovel poem.
Returning home, the gray sky and the rain washed much of what was left of the snow so I curled up reading Ralph Waldo Emerson's poem, The Snow-Storm. Struck by the word choice of the last line that evoked a vivid image, "The frolic architecture of the snow", I chose it for a strike line when writing a golden shovel poem.
entering upon the
quiet spot we frolic
quiet spot we frolic
pondering nature's architecture-
remnant piles of
hardened snowpacks glisten as the
visitors marvel at winter snow.
©CV, 2019
❄❅❆
-a slice of winter to ponder-
©CV, 2019
❄❅❆
-a slice of winter to ponder-
I now will join Two Writing Teachers for the March Slice of Life Story Challenge.
-Day 10 of 31 days of writing-
I love Golden Shovel poems, and yours is a wonderful example! How serendipitous that your reluctance to return to dirty snow piles turned into delight. I'm glad you celebrated it. :-)
ReplyDeleteHolly, while I did see dirty snow the beauty of this sight in a quiet park was filled with joy.
DeleteIt is amazing how varied the winter scenes can be. The frosty, the fluffy, the sadly grey. The emotions change accordingly. And poem can grow form a single snowflake or from a snow storm or from an inspiration by other poets.
ReplyDeleteAs writers we can can find inspiration in the smallest objects. I could have wrote about the dirty snow but the fresh white virgin snow was so stunning and such a peaceful scene that how could I have resisted, Terje?
DeleteLove your slice of snow! And I didn't know that the line chosen for a golden shovel poem is called a strike line.
ReplyDeleteRamona, Kat Apel shared that tidbit with us in her January #InstaPoetry challenge. I love that wording for the line to add a remake poem.
DeleteI'm always looking for new poems to share with my students. Do you mind if I share yours?
ReplyDeleteI would be honored Eric. Would you please share with me how your students responded so I can write a post about that?
DeleteStrike line? Who knew! I guess I missed Kat's post that week. I love your golden shovel. Enormous snowflakes began drifting down this morning and then when it evolved into sleet and then rain, it washed away the refreshed beauty of the snow. Dreaming of daffodils, Carol! -- Christie
ReplyDeleteYou make snow sound so lovely. Come March it is usually only muddy and gray here.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your link to help me discover more about golden shovel poems.
Beautiful snow! I agree - those snow piles are nice... the ones around me... not so much! Love how you have a golden shovel poem -- I haven't done one for a while... and they are always so inspirational!
ReplyDelete