[evizaer]

The snow falls--winter rests at our house,
where its cotton mother mutes the light
the sun has sent to wash the ground.

Silence swathes the countryside,
as soft and pale as the light it hosts;
In a certain way the world crouches,
It shelters 'neath the silence and the snow.

(Somewhere, a baby is born;
somewhere, passion is cooled
in reverence for a spring to come.)

Under winter's solemn eyes,
silence reclines next to me on the porch.
It shares a drink with me
as we talk of old times, wordlessly,
until we can, together,
embrace the coming of the night.

[Venomous Vixen]

This one is one of few I have read in a long time that really struck me. The use of the snow, as a blanket of life almost trapped and waiting to be reborn? possibly again in the spring was amazing. In particular "cotton mother" struck me and I got an image of farmlands and times passed. The third stanza was unique as well, giving you a glimpse into the little things that happen during the winter and really making this more humble than abstract.

For me the last stanza is what hit me, the way you brought life to silence, sitting there and I pictured a porch and an old man in a creaky rocking chair reminiscing while enjoying a drink. I wish I had some advice to offer up here to fine tune this but personally I think this is a near if not final draft and just beautiful. I am a sucker for metaphors of nature and humanity.

[evizaer]

Thank you for the kind words! It's good to know the meticulous revision I made to this piece paid off.