As I Count Your Days Poem by Sandra Fowler
As I Count Your Days
I count the snowflakes as I count your days.
The hollows hold evaporated stars.
Each one as unique as a poem thought,
Bears witness to winter's eternity.
The landscape is the color of old wood.
Vividness would disturb its elegance.
Within its depth I carve your Slavic face
And feel my fingers warmed by memory.
Previously published: Skylark, Purdue University Calumet
Your depth of feeling is conveyed exquisitely and powerfully in a relatively short poem. It is sometimes difficult to achieve one beautiful image in a single poem, but you've magically created several with this stellar offering. A most enjoyable read. Thank you immensely. Kindest regards, Greg XXO
I can almost smell the moss in the dense woods, a wonderful write full of feeling and imagery, Love Duncan
Sandra, I was captivated by the first line and even more enchanted by the second. Your words paint such exquisite pictures. Warmest wishes, Justine
take me in your mind, let me there a while to live your mind. wonderful write.
'each one as unique as a poem thought'...truely wonderful poem
exquisite work m'am.............so smooth and tender.......great imagery. 10 all the way
a wonderful write..and once again, full of imagery as you can truly do it.Full of emotions poured out on this piece.
the depth of memories is simply not measurable, but your magical quill has managed to fathom those depths.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 8:33:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
very good one sandra. keep going.