
Footprints in the snow
Records of another time
Fetching groceries
Copyright Francis 2021
Footprints in the snow
Records of another time
Fetching groceries
Copyright Francis 2021
Christmas Miracle ~ a rare winter snow sparks childhood glee and magic shared heart to heart ~ ~ We haven’t had any snow in about 5 years, except for a couple of dustings that lasted mere hours. Even this miracle event was only about 2″ of snow, but it brought so much joy to those […]
Christmas Miracle — writing to freedom
Snowfall’s frozen tears
Icing on infested earth
Solstice turn around
Copyright Francis 2020
Skeins from far away
Where tundra has turned to snow
Welcome visitors
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Florescent green banners snaking
in the blue;
Polaris over my head,
such beacons of the kingdom
drawing like a magnet,
beckoning closer to ice smothered peaks
of estranged lands;
the incessant drum of the shaman,
ancestors screaming from my heart,
imploring me: “Remember this.”
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
So, I decided to push the envelope even more. Flew to Tromso from Oslo. It was about a two-hour flight. It costs about 90 dollars round trip at the time. Might be more expensive in the coming years. Luckily, there wasn’t any major snowstorm that day. Luck was on my side to visit this part…
via Above the Arctic circle in Tromso, Norway — Passport Overused
Snow Again
I grab a cup of tea, set out
to make something of the day.
Snow again, it brings daylight on.
They describe it as ten centimetres
which I still find hard to see.
It’s enough to cover my shoes,
that’s how I look at it
while clearing your little car.
Later, the laptop warms my knee
with Schubert declaring his genius,
when I feel the phone shudder.
A cursory text says the roads
were not too bad.
I look outside at the gathering host,
busy blots of grey and black
on white. An emerging blue.
They know the human is about
and that he has food.
photo and poem © copyright dfbarker 2012
Face
The face of winter
hangs rigid like death
pinching my ears
stabbing at my nose
Plumes of steam
from concrete slits
blur hunchback figures
shuffling through
the matte scenes
in ashen white
I’m looking for heat
stamping
flicking ash
on lunar prints
sealed in fortnight ice
waiting for steel facades
and great sheens of glass
to emanate your face
from rippling sepia shapes
poem and image © copyright David Francis Barker 2012
image digitally created
Still
We awake to whiteness,
standing still to take it in,
like nothing will ever move again.
A few footprints in the snow,
silent records of an earlier day.
You say this is how it should be,
our minds lost in books, our dreams,
stretching out in listless days
and long nights. I yawn down
the stairs to click on the kettle,
soothed before a misting window
by the straight-falling flakes.
© copyright David Francis Barker 2011
First published in poetry collection ‘Anonymous Lines’ available at:
*If you are having a Christmas break, have a peaceful one
** Many thanks to all of those who have read or commented on this blog. I am very grateful.