Silvery pizzicato, strings in vibration, a concerto composed with the chill of viola trills. A hibernation beneath the blank cover shrouding the silence in winter’s prelude. It exudes a gentle whisper. Over near the rivulet, crystals form, there is no warmth to keep her dance nimble. This symbols her station encased, faces rosy and ruddy, frosted and firm.
Wind blown and silent
whispers falling on deaf ears
fears of winter’s blast
(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017
dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday–Shimo No Koe–First Frost’s Voice