I walk as a stranger
in my own land
frozen
a thin layer
of ice
covers
a season
left behind —
a surface
of frozen sticks
separate
socially distant from
the tree
whence they were
born
life spliced
between
locked out
neither being
space
nor time
just waiting
for the thaw.

∞

Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).
Today’s prompt:  Day One: Sometimes, writing poetry is a matter of getting outside of your own head, and learning to see the world in a new way. To an extent, you have to “derange” yourself – make the world strange, and see it as a stranger might.

30 Poems in 30 Days

All text and photography © Dale Schierbeck

…. more of my original Poetry on EatsWritesShoots here.