Crystals
There was no crystal ball
to foresee it
as little by little
the ice sheets came down
layer upon layer,
slow but relentless crystals
joining together.
That was the last time and
there were no survivors.
No one to describe the forests
clothed crystalline
in silver spangles,
dressed for Christmas,
shining with sparkling baubles,
the last survivors
wearing their silver ball gowns
ready for their final dance.
Still they lie in wait
waiting
to reveal themselves,
hoping
to tell their stories
when the ice recedes.
Waiting,
waiting,
only
to be washed away
in the thaw.
By Lynn White
-Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. https://lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com and https://www.facebook.com/Lynn-White-Poetry-1603675983213077/
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