In the Drowned Valleys

Winds fly bleak across snowswept fields

the first frost withers the harvest

fallen to wait for the fires of summer

From here on high where the candles burn low

the darkness hides all and the blizzard howls

one voice of a world covered in shadow

the long months breaking like endless waves

high upon the hills and in the drowned valleys

where the last of the revellers lie frozen in the streets

blood thin and crystallized in sleeping veins

eyes open on the coming of Winter

and yet no thought but of the distant warmth of Spring

Got another story rejected by a lit. magazine. Have to keep getting better, I suppose. Got to keep trying.

Photo by David Hellmann on Unsplash

14 responses to “In the Drowned Valleys”

  1. Hi Mitch, this is a lovely very visual poem. I tend to love work that involves the water, I suppose it is because I am so drown to the ocean. I love all your lines –
    “blood thin and crystallized in sleeping veins”
    Great work and I know it is very difficult to get those rejections myself, but I just keep pounding away. Keep on writing and submitting if it is important to you. That is what I am doing and you definitely have talent. Stay safe and blessed. Hugs, Joni

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