Icicles

Sunlit spheres of melting icicles image snowscapes of dark green pines and skeletal trees and seemingly cheerful, temperate blue skies; each miniature, pristine orb an immeasurable passage of time reigning over calendar days and the circumnavigation of precise second, minute and hourly hands.

The nightfall shroud of motley, mottled clouds reclaims the darkness with a frisson of subzero air until the ice moon in the microcosmic diamond reflectivity of snow mirrors macrocosmic starlight and the circles transmogrify, sharpening into the memory-ghost rest of vampiric fangs.








©2019 by L.P. Van Ness. All rights reserved.

[genre:cosmic fiction]

Snowscape

In the dawn aftermath of the winter storm, tributaries of light pierced through the gray shroud of clouds and the stoic vigil of skeletal boughs and dark green pines of the encompassing boreal trees illuminating sharp, transparent tips and reflective outer edges of icicles, neither thawing nor expanding, suspended for a time in a portent of starlight. A stasis of anything animate or living, the only sound is the ghostly, static rush of restless, invisible wind.

Having transcended those buried deep beneath snowy mounds of the empty labyrinth, beneath an icy, pale blue sky, over the hard and frozen white windswept prairie there tumbled and rattled a singular and startling, dry and delicate, withered autumn leaf.









©2019 by L.P. Van Ness. All rights reserved.

[genre: cosmic fiction]