Snowflakes on my tongue (Photo credit: giraffe_756)
I fear this winter may have ended
and I never consciously captured
on my tongue the essence of its fruit,
the falling snow. Oh, I caught several
windblown facefuls of snowblower mush,
but they taste of two-stroke engine exhaust
and anger. Pure snow, the glistening,
diaphonous jewels that have yet become
a ground-bound part of the landscape
such as I, taste like perfect nothing.
They’re as blank of flavor as they’re
empty of color, their nothingness melting
to shapeless memory in your mouth.
Maybe snow tastes like poetry, though.
Each poem a one-of-a-kind piece
of icy flotsam floating from cloudy thought;
each frozen notion full of facets and edges
only visible by our intimate inspection.
We catch them upon our tongues, they melt
and become part of us in that moment.
Two stroke engine exhaust and anger… I know that taste 🙂
I do love when a poet can bring the mundane to such ethereal heights….sigh…lovely indeed!
Snowflakes like poetry….the words melt on the tongue. Beautiful, Joe…wish it would stop snowing now, though 😉 xox
Each poem a one – of – a kind piece, were truer words ever written?
Yes, the taste of your words, imagery, analogy delicious.
“Maybe snow tastes like poetry.
Each poem a one-of-a-kind piece”……..
“We catch them upon our tongues, where
they melt and become part of us in that moment.”
Wow!!! Simply superb.
This builds to a glorious conclusion!
it is the consciousness that makes all the difference… beautiful poem.
Beautiful – love the comparison of a poem and a snowflake, no two alike (though many of mine are very similar).
I really like this poetry.. fortunetely I have no snow-blower… but still the taste of snow… This is a really nice poem.
Beautiful as always. I especially loved ” flotsam floating from cloudy thought”!
I keep thinking one of these days, I won’t care for one of your poems…but I think you prove, even turning a ‘faceful of snowblower mush’ you are amazingly good at what you do.
Cool stuff. Winter is leaving us and all I can think about is snowplows on the road. It’s easy to miss the simplicity of snow and I like that you brought that up.
Such truth here…. And don’t worry, the way things are going, you still might get your chance, winter hasn’t given up the ghost yet. 😉
Purity before it hits the earth, like humans as babes before we grow brains to do evil
It’s a long time since I’ve seen snow, but this poem certainly reminded me of that blank taste.
Great analogy. And I must say, it is so very refreshing to read a poem which does not malign poor Winter — a season that I love. Spring comes out slowly, as it should, for it intrudes on a world of wonder.
taste of two-stroke engine exhaust and anger – made me laugh….I really enjoyed this. I’m from the Albany area (Niskayuna/Clifton Park) years….ago. my favorite memories….SPAC
You say:
“I caught several
windblown facefuls of snowblower mush,
but they taste of two-stroke engine exhaust
and anger.”
Made me wonder if you had an unpleasant neighbor who was snowblowing you!
I seem to recall snowflakes from the sky had some kind of elusive flavor, though what it was I cannot say. You seem to have observed them to be flavorless.
A subject for future research, next time I am traveling in a wintered land…