Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

First thing you notice about snow,
lighter at ten o'clock than oddity.
You can't see three blocks through
but it reflects and radiates, you could go
out there, reflecting, muffled crunch.
Street lamps turn it pale orange.

Dylan wrote about orange.
He wrote of obscurity and telephones
not ringing, and things run aground.
For better or worse he wrote
about how the snow turned
pale orange.

God keeps the snow in storehouses. I read that somewhere. I don't think Dylan knew about the storehouses or he wouldn't have had to write about pale orange. Of course, I never think of alligators without fondness of where they live. Out there in the swamps just gobbling away. Sleeping afterwards. Dreaming of playing cards with crows. Pistols on the table all around. On the line the status of living heroes for one good hand among friends.

When it first sifted down,
everything turned to peace,
grime and grim replaced by light.
Feathery grace, purity and calm.
A moment...
before night came down
in pale orange and noisy tread.
The blanket is torn,
a moment passed.

up in the mountains east of you
it is all black and white
and beautiful

For a terrified flatlander like me to see

peace and stillness and dread.

I tried not to hate the people in the gayly colored four wheel drive vehicles with their roof racks loaded with skies who drove around my jack knifed truck.


I have not seen the orange yet, not that I remember
But lightning in a blizzard is a trip

Mnaz, this is exquisitely scintillating. Your snow poem is vivid in the mind's eye.

John

John.. TY. Don't get too much snow here as a general rule.

Seven stages of snow...

Feathery peace.
Rapt windowside attention.
Pale orange under a streetlamp.
The first tire treads, powdery furrows.
The first signs of icy crackle and stains.
Gray and grit start to infuse the peace.
And then, that godawful slush and slog.

i like it when it's still "feathery peace"

mnaz... your 7 stages of snow parallels the earth
where our first steps were across a "feathery peace"
and may quite possibly end with "that godawful slush and slog"
while we bitch and moan wondering
what happened on our 'innocent' journey of discovery..?

Yeah, kinda funny Cecil. About halfway through this I thought, oh man, this is metaphoric of life and all that, and I thought, nah it's way too transparent and I'll never get away with it.

Yet there it was, just outside my window. I saw the whole thing, the whole transforming process within a week's time..

Been getting all kinds of it. Even some new stuff.