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The pitter and patter of dog-shoes across the snow,
the sound of the sledge,
the call of the driver
out into the vast empty space of the sky,
the call of the dogs
eager to get on to the next destination,
not knowing where they are going.

This sliding into oblivion,
the oblivion of snow covered scenes,
stretching away to the distant horizon,
magnetising the senses,
as if pulled by unseen threads of intensity,
like the long drawn out note of a Japanese flute,
floating on the breeze
that never seems to take a breath.

The track, a continual rhythmical swishing
as the crystals on it are placed and replaced in position,
the wildness of wilderness, arctic wide,
the whole so expansive,
man and dogs
are but pin pricks on the great sheet of whiteness.

All wrapped in by an omnipotent silence,
the silence of a winter night,
descending chords of the ephemeral music of existence,
resounding through the undulating hills,
echoed off the brilliant white mountains,
dying as it fly's
slowly becoming
with the blankness of the surroundings.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Last few words: 
I wrote this for someone who is doing a race with their dogs right now, I haven't but would love to.
Editing stage: 


Generally I am not a fan of your poetry, to be harsh, it often feels bland.

This however is a thing of great beauty and power. Kudos.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

The feeling is mutual, to be honest,
our sense of existence is of a different nature,
making our expressions so very different.

I am glad you enjoyed this one, I do love the dogs
and the snow and the open spaces.

Others can choose the more brutal type of
poetry. I am me, I can't help being me.

Bland but not blonde,
young but not young,
boringly happy with life.

Yours Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

Is it still winter in Norway?
Starting to feel warmer here.
Loved the ice dogs image

Somewhere else they showed me their five dogs, on the site below my poem, they understood.

Yes it's still snowy, although it is shrinking fast in three days of hot sunshine!!! Even though yesterday the SW wind, all of a sudden, turned into a roaring N. wind that fair shook the wimple flag nearly off it's pole. That was the aftermath, or stray effect of the storm that hit N.N. where it blew huge things about and frightened all off the roads. When the north has sun we have rain and vice versa!!

I went skiing last Wednesday, now it's become a bit icy, not such fun. The woods were all decked in rime, magical world, specially slowly gliding through a tunnel of twinkling trees, like a slow motion video.

I love that, but the nuthatches were out singing yesterday, having some grand discussion about who is to have which hole in the old pine tree, I think, the woodpeckers having made several there.

If you have a bird box with a hole made for a blue-tit, then the nuthatch hammers away to make it bigger, then he lines the edges with mud so that it's exactly his size, beautifully done.

Enjoy the changing towards Summer, sometimes one can suddenly feel too hot though, the body having got used to adapting to the cold. In the Autumn it's the other way round!! Funny old world.

Thank you FF love from Ann

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

My daughter used to love birds. I like watching them but don't know one form another. I can recognise crows, pigeons, robins and mynah birds, parrots, parakeets, budgeriigars and that's it!
You have a encyclopaedia of wild things and life in your memeory

Thanks to my parents, and also to my own observation,and the last working yrs, of my life, I was in a Nature Kindergarten, we were outdoors, in snow blizzards and all, all year, and we used to learn about the birds, and of course much else, some extra knowledge always coming, even the parents wee surprised when their child came running in from the garden to tell them they had heard a great tit, or other bird, not seen, but heard and could name it. We also had a CD with the sounds on it. In such an environment with little children's great curiosity we learnt together about all sorts. I loved it, and to be payed to "play" with children in the wilds, was unbelievable. So they were, sadly, the only children I have had.

Mynah birds I have perhaps on my Australian CD of birds, African birds too, but I haven't learnt them by heart!!!!

Pieces of eight, pieces of eight! Love to you Ff.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

I run the little one to the right
the medium on the left
Short haired warmer clime dogs
designed for sturdy chores
the leads in my one hand holding
fast and a steady run...
We fly down the trail in suburbia
at the cold..

I want to feel seconds of what it is
like in some places that are not meant
to be tamed....A terrific write Ann
I miss the northern lights...we dont see
them here..just enough light....

Or hunting perhaps like the wild and skilled
people did at one time and still do....

a beautiful poem that I can relate to well

Thank You!

I knew you would like your memory jogged
into the wild open whiteness, Steven,
there's something magnetic
about them isn't there,
still, cold, white, expectant,
yet timelessly silent,
with sudden dramatic sounds
that echo across the world.

Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

you have a way with words that pulls the reader right in, with this write i felt i was actually watching it on the big screen

great descriptive (as usual)

love ahd hugs

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

It is because the thought of them moves me,
as did reading about them in books about the arctic,
always a draw to my imagination,
fascinating wide;
and the comradeship of the dogs,
the only human friend in a hostile environment.

A particular place, love it, thank you judyanne,
I missed you we have all sorts to do, trying to finish a book,
for the iPad or whatever.
But still writing lots of poems!!!

Love as ever annanya.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment
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