Louis Groarke: ‘Snowfall (Via Negativa)’
Snowfall (Via Negativa)
Out on the highway, snow settles in place
Covering the tracks the traffic has traced;
Blotting out edges, disguising the rough,
It buries the world in heaps of white stuff.
It blankets the trees, their branches rimmed white
With down-drifting flakes that fill up the night.
Immaculate, empty—winter forlorn
Clears out a space where beauty is born.
So poets, in language, clear out a space;
In parsing out lines, they strive to erase.
Removing distinctions too sharply defined;
Cloaking in symbols what clutters the mind.
Subtracting, not adding, more from the world
As a ribbon of metaphor slowly unfurls.
’Til page, like landscape, briefly transfigured,
Is buried in beauty, sweetly disfigured.
Louis Groarke
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