quarrel

This is a very old poem from my journals. I took it out and edited it a bit. It is one of my favourites, as it never fails to bring back the memories.



photo by jzlomek
image from morguefile.com




quarrel

like a rush
of arctic wind
that scuttles over
a winter pond
dusting hoarfrost on reeds,
we sat, stiff , cold
as strangers

no words, no words pass between us today.
no words, no words she said.



revised 07/12/08
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© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 )