Saturday, 6 April 2019
The thing I love about writing poetry is that nothing is wrong, anything goes, and the words can be interpreted to say what you want them to say. This may be a poem about walking through a blizzard - or it may be about something else entirely.
Walking through a blizzard
your feet take time to acclimatise.
You move slowly
and with each step you sink deeper.
You turn to check your progress
but you can’t quite be sure
which way to go,
which way you came.
For the moment it’s beautiful
but you know that underneath it all
the world is grey and very soon
the pain and numbness will hit.