Shaken, Not Stirred
Stuck in time,
in a dance never ending;
frozen
in mid pirouette.
I’ll shiver
for you will pick up my world
and with one shake
you’ll make it snow.
With flakes in my hair,
ice on the ground,
I’ll stare out
at your warmer world.
I’m frozen,
can’t move, as the snow
tumbles down;
my world
shaken, not stirred.
Submitted: December 06, 2020
© Copyright 2021 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.
Comments
As you drive your Astin Martin through a snowy Scandinavian landscape. Good poem.
Sun, December 6th, 2020 10:13pmMore Poetry Poems
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Mike S.
Excellent take on the pick, Hull?
Sun, December 6th, 2020 6:49pmAuthor
Reply
Thanks, Mike.
Mon, December 7th, 2020 11:22am