Poetry

Outside My Window

Icecicles
Icicles outside my window
Drip
 	drip
		drip
The
	sound
		breaks
The silence of the room
Where I begin
My day

I Meditate
And watch a
Drop of water run
Down
The
	rippled
		face
			of
	an
		icicle
And drop

I put on my boots
And stand on the porch

The
Drip
	drip
		drip
Has turned to a constant patter

Like that of a forest
After a hard rain
Is the sound
Of ice and snow
Melting off branches
And dripping from eaves

We’re finishing up a nice bout of snow in Seattle. It started last weekend, and has continued off and on. Yesterday we were even graced with a nice bit of ice on top of all the snow. When I woke this morning and went in to do meditate and do my yoga, I heard the ice melting off of icicles hanging from our eaves, and listened to the rate of the melting and dripping increase.

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3 thoughts on “Outside My Window

  1. I love the awareness in this poem, but most of all i love the memories evoked by the dripping of the forest after a hard rain….how many Julys did we listen to that in the tent trailer while we were camping?

  2. Thanks, Mom. Yes, I remember all the days sitting playing Yachtzee and Backgammon in the trailer, waiting for the rain to let up some!

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