Today's small poem with William Matthew's poetry in mind.
The day's flatness startles and tears up
the mind's solitary conversation.
It's color is white with washed blue-gray
brushed up against the leafless silhouettes.
Alll movement gone in one held breath,
the bright eye removed from the storm.
In high winds of other days there are
decisions to be made, action in the fearfull
beating at the window, but here in arctic
stillness there is no drama in which to hide.