SPINDRIFT (To the memory of Anne Frank)
[...]
All the snow that was laid in fields
Was blown last night,
So blasted were these tiny frozen particles
Through the hedge row into the lane,
Blasted by Natures fury, blasted by Nature's atrocity
High into drifts,
But in the aftermath for it to have left behind
Something so pure, and beautiful
Something especially personal
Yet in a way, something also to share.
If I were a farm labourer or anybody for that matter
I should surely want to stop and admire
To look to see this wonder.
If I were sincerely human I would like to
Know and understand what has been written
In this spin dust frozen
Of carvings and sculptures,
All kinds of arches, lips and saucers
Snow castles, just there! In this silence undisturbed
As when they too are gone in words left
Maybe they will reach out the same,
Maybe they will travel far,
For humanity to sculpture a better way,
For one to learn to love, a little more than yesterday
And of this thirteen year old girl in the spindrift now
I am sure I hear her whisper
Small steps:
Just small steps.
Next ('Suzanne Verdal McCallister')