Poetry

The Moment a Heartbeat Shifts Trice

[aesop_image imgwidth=”850px” img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/3054775751_411ebc3ea7_o.jpg” credit=”Michael S. Sommermeyer” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”]

Snow dusting the crest of Mount Tom,
Patches of orange and brown balm,
Cold air smell of jet metal-cased gneiss,
The moment a heartbeat shifts trice.

Clouds roll over the summit peak,
Dark anger of winter mystique,
A chill of slushy snow and ice,
The moment a heartbeat shifts trice.

Skew angle of silvery rock,
Makes way for a white aftershock,
Of wind breath’s plunging sacrifice,
The moment a heartbeat shifts trice.

Valley awaits the brewing storm,
Sunshine blocked behind veil swarm,
An aversion to inclement vice,
The moment a heartbeat shifts trice.

© 2016 – 2017, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved.


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