Winter White
Winter white. The cold wind across the fields
spoke only of snow and wearied him
prisoner in the cottage where his impatience yields
no words on the cold and barren purity of the snow
white paper, no words longing for their page longing
.
for their precise moment to mark the dreadful whiteness
that had come with winter’s snow and the ice that followed it,
their precise moment when reality’s niveous brightness
might be dispelled by their generous rush of verse, of
words spilling sliding rhyming across the paper’s snowy prospect
.
A poem partially inspired by the final word in the final volume – Quinx or The Ripper’s Tale – of The Avignon Quintet by Lawrence Durrell.
