Personal Favorites, part 3.

A continued look at pieces I have written that I especially like.
This one is an ottava rima, which is not a sonnet form, but inspired thereby.


Your silence holds the earth in stark white snow
Already fallen, sleeping in her bliss.
We’re unaware of fire’s long-burning glow
Deeper than the solid earth’s abyss.
For down below the demons wrestle. Woe.
You have betrayed the mountain with a kiss.
You hear the silence rampant in the woods
And sink beneath your head in snow for good.

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