The brook is always changing

Weird Poetry


The icy edges weren’t kissing

Like they are


Now the water runs under shimmering sheets of crystal,

And the light,

Dappling through snow-hugged tree arms,

Is blinding my glacial eyes.

I didn’t have to squint as much

The day before.

But it doesn’t bother me —

Because what I can no longer see,

I can hear clear as quartz,

And the brook makes this bubbling bumping sound

Beneath the merging ice blankets,

And it might be

My favourite sound of the season

So far.




*** Kissing ice sheets over bubbling brook. ***

Photo & gif by moi ❤👽

4 thoughts on “The brook is always changing

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