Saturday, January 23, 2010

One Single Impression: A Sunny Day

Every chimney in town
is puffing away
this Saturday morning.

It’s -8 degrees F.
Mt. Forist is a frozen
gray elephant

sleeping in front
of my face.
Then the sun hits

it smack on the head
like an egg
splashing into it.

I watch the yolk
slowly spread
over its hide

down, down
until it’s flowing
into my living room.

I scoop it up
with the spoon
of my imagination

and pour it
into a poem.
Time for an omelette.

17 comments:

Beth P. said...

Not over easy, either!

I loved this...starting with your 'gray elephant' image.

Thanks!

Sherri B. said...

This was delightful to read...so clever! The imagery was fantastic.

Tammie Lee said...

oh, your poem is wonderful~ Stay warm!

Giggles said...

Linda love the visual of this poem....excellent, even garnered a chuckle!

Hugs Giggles

Loch Rob said...

The sun into an egg, and then an omelet. You have me smiling tonight. Unique take on the prompt.

SandyCarlson said...

A feast for you and for us thanks to the splendid alchemy of your poetry.

Amity said...

wonderful imagery dear!

such creative thoughts! writers always do!

thanks for the summer!

Jeeves said...

Wow. This is going to be the best ever omlette

Jim said...

Brrrr! I left my snow shovels in Manchester when I moved to Texas. Finders are keepers, I won't need them anymore.

I like the sun omlet baked in your poem. We have flowers and holly berries baked in ours here.
..

Maggie said...

What a wonderful way to wake up.
I loved this poem.

madeline d. murray said...

This made me smile. It's beautiful. Thank you.

Cassiopeia Rises said...

Oh, I like your words and images very much. They speak of so many colors like a painting.


Melanie

Stan Ski said...

You can't make them without breaking them.

Tumblewords: said...

A delicious poem you've cooked up here! Thanks!

Yellow Tulip said...

wow...yummy:)...nice one

Patti said...

I love this- so creative! Great interpretation of the prompt!

gabrielle said...

Amazingly dynamic and fluid, the juices are flowing even in -8 degree weather.
Enjoyed the whimsy!

Linda's Poems