Image: Adapted from Canva Pro

Near a concrete verge, a snowdrop bows
to a north wind, an act of defiance
against minds immersed in roadway oblivion.
Inside an aperture, carbon white sits
on a cold day, sprinkling winter soil,
a camera sure in its capture of a new order.

Above the din, can anyone hear a robin sing,
Or the mindless torture of scraped earth? 

4 thoughts on “Because

  1. Now that’s a contrasting picture. I wonder if anything is audible when the din within oneself is the loudest. Some thought to inspire a poetic piece. Wish you well, Davy. Have a great year ahead. Take care. 🙂

    1. That’s a great point, Terveen and thank you for making it. Sometimes as writer I struggle to hear myself because of the internal noise. Perhaps that presents both a positive and negative side to writing. Take care.

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