colloid

[Solar]

I think maybe, winter’s more like a coma than a death.
This occurred to me in that period of time before dawn,
the ancient mornings where everything is illuminated
by a pale blue light, the wide expanses of suburban pavement with each
nook and cranny in between perfectly clear, visible, and soft on the eyes
with no sun shining overhead. The remnants of which are
fossilized in clouds of plentiful texture. Suspended, no, but
animated languidly in a catatonic state. Akin to still trunks dotted along roads
and their leafless branches, fingers brittle and dry but flickering in an
invisible touch of wind, even when everything is frozen.
Slowing, I supposed while waiting against the sunrise, is not the same
as stopping. Just as the howling blizzards of time occupied an indigo sky
while right now, fluffy white tufts nomadic within a baby blue exhale on.
Every passing second a different shade of the same colour.

[Reflection]

two thumbs up, both to the sentiment and the execution, although the description of the sky in the second-to-last two lines is not quite living up to the rest of the poem...i mean, "fluffy white tufts"? (•̪●); before, these were clouds that provided for the fossilization of the sun! FLUFFY TUFTS?!

everything is illuminated

(°∀°)

[Solar]

i like the innocence in the face of death, when you think it's just a stupid phase or something, maybe moving slower as you'd like to think

like that contrast of blues and the contradiction too; slowing down and stopping are more similar than the narrator would've liked but whether ancient mornings and fossilized clouds or more childish baby blues and fluffy tufts (nomadic, too, is a good word and i think contributing to that more fresh and less old feel)it's almost but not quite the same in the end--like how the past is scarier and wiser, howling winters and indigo blues

idk, poetry, it's weird, but i think i'll revisit and expand on this later--taking what you said into account <3

mostly sometimes i just want to evoke very particular imagery and serve that as a good conversation starter, when we talk to poems

[chuman]

You have a beautiful soul, my friend. Interesting piece of prose, what's the purpose behind it?

For some strange reason, it makes me think of Inception and Stonehenge.

[theirlosthearts]

I like the feelings in the poem, and the metrics are interesting. The "fluffy tufts" does kind of break from the feel of previous words of the poem, I like it though.