Tundra Dawn...

7 Comments

Tags:
  • Nature

    Tundra Dawn...
    Frozen breath
    Crisp cold
    As my clothing
    Ice cold
    to touch
    In
    and
    Out

    Feeling the bitter cold
    Feeling the morning
    To go to work
    5am
    To start a day
    In the cold

    Tundra of stone cold steel
    Feeling the dawn
    Before the eye of god
    Could rise over Maryland
    How these early December
    Mornings touch my spine
    All the way up my spine
    32 degrees
    Cold as can be
    Like being immerged in ice
    A lake of ice
    In the mountains

    This Tundra
    Tundra of cold

    Tundra of night
    Tundra of cold feelings

    How winter feels
    How winter is so barren
    Bare as the day I was born
    Cold as ice
    Across my back
    To remember we are...
    Alone coming into this world
    Alone when we leave this world

    Tundra of cold
    How cold winter can be

    Tundra the feeling before
    Before we see the light of...
    Being Born

    Poem Comments

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    sheleeara commented on Tundra Dawn...

    02-11-2009

    awesome, now I need a hot drink, :-). your words paint a very cold, dismal picture of cold weather and cold feelings
    Reply to Comment

    Kr1ssy1 commented on Tundra Dawn...

    02-06-2009

    A Very descriptive poem, after reading this now I feel cold and need a cup of tea. The cold is much more intense when we are alone.
    Reply to Comment

    WordSlinger commented on Tundra Dawn...

    02-05-2009

    Im a Roofer so I know this feeling, Nice work
    Reply to Comment

    mykhail commented on Tundra Dawn...

    02-04-2009

    Great poem!!
    Reply to Comment

    bforibus commented on Tundra Dawn...

    02-04-2009

    feels like the character is suffering and is ready to die from this extreme cold they are experiencing. loved it
    Reply to Comment

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

    PunoAngulus’s Poems (28)

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