It's about time something about the north was written, that wasn't about snow. It's such an obvious stereotype, so absolutely conventional it's almost sickening. Honestly it's not as though we live in igloos, we're far more advanced than snow.
Yet, I want to write about it.
So here is something different. This is a poem about snow, but not. Enjoy.
"Ice Candles"
Shivering hearts.
Hands laced gently
Trembling slightly
Grateful for the warmth.
Thoughts once so numb,
are waking up
being reborn
blossoming from the remnants
of dead dreams,
filling our world with light.
Your smile sends me spinning
across the ice,
the heat of conversation
melting my resolve
until the cold disappears.
May you light an ice candle,
Arctic Hipster
