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Behind Creation
January 31, 2021
Frost descends upon my poems
Like sharp blades cutting the throat of my words
Letters, silenced
Lines grew cold
Verses, trembled
The hand that wrote them, pale and still
Page flips
Gentle whiteness
The poet now sleds down a fresh winter hill
New paths
New sounds
New Life
She writes,
"I am the dancer in the everlasting snow"
© Shuci Z., Los Angeles, California
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Shuci Z. is a poet, guilty feminist, and high school sophomore. She indulges in literature, art, environmental & social advocacy, and metamodernist sentiments, but also spares time to feed her newly developed addiction to comedy news. Shuci dreams to make Spaceship Earth a stronger world and write poems about the moon in Cappadocia, Turkey, presumably in a hot air balloon.
This poem is about the struggles of the creating process and how poets use pen tips to create new grooves on the pristine page, a snow hill pregnant with all possibilities.