Walking in snowbroth

Slept late, read a wonderful book for two hours, went for a walk. A poem rushed out, and I thought I’d share it here:

* * *

Crushed Ice

I can’t see my future, the coming years are hidden
but in this moment the sun’s
shining on me, the sky’s coloured
with promises. The night cold has faded,
the path’s filled with snowbroth –

I wade in spring, the ice cracks under my boots
water welling beneath. My smile
of satisfaction, my wet socks:
it’s like my first spring in Finland
when I learnt the magic
of ice to water

in our garden,
when I crushed ice into shards of the past.

* * *

(Snowbroth is among some delicious words I want to start using.)

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About Sara Norja

I'm a bilingual writer of prose and poetry. Things I enjoy apart from writing include tea, reading voraciously, cycling on warm summer nights, medieval manuscripts, dancing, and the wind.
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2 Responses to Walking in snowbroth

  1. T says:

    Lovely words. :) (Nice owls, too.) May the snowbroth disappear soon (not back to snow). And Happy Easter!

    • Sara Norja says:

      Thanks! :) (Yes, I liked the owls as well.)

      The snowbroth seems to be evaporating pretty fast – hope the weather gets properly warm soon! Happy Easter to you as well. *hug*

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