on ice


buoyed yet not
simply afloat

a lone dry branchlet
contours catching sunlight

held quite fast
by the midnight frost

deep shades of slate
and the thinnest of pond crust

anticipating movement
in the melt

Trialling some WYSIWYG discipline of ‘imagism’ from a DVerse prompt
and offering up something for this Sunday’s  Poetry Pantry


  1. On thin ice is tenuous and yet there is a fragile beauty in this poem – i particularly love how the image marries and ‘deep shades of slate and the thinnest of pond crust’


  2. I like the metaphoric touch. Sometimes we too are held fast by ‘frost’ (of whatever type), as we anticipate movement come spring…. We know it will come, but when?


  3. First, the image is striking of the branchlet frozen in time. Once the ice melts it will be free to float away. Winter does feel like that as we wait for the arrival of spring buds.


  4. I love your images, both photographic and poetic. I like that you find beauty in the small and apparently inconsequential – a beauty which is there to be found, and I think is well worthy of note.


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