Wheelock Street Snow Bank

Hey all-
So I decided to try my hand at some free-verse poetry. Much to my surprise it was a lot of fun! Let me know what you think!

~CD


Carved snow bank
Like little pebbles were
Bullets, like the cars
Had firebombs in the
Puddles they hit,
The ice glazes it:
Thrice fired,
Thrice ignored,
Thrice reformed
In an ash cloud
Of charred snow.
Trapping specks
In its buttresses,
As if Dresden
Could happen twice,
Every day, along
The road
During rush hour,
It is
Pounded,
Sculpted,
Sliced,
Refined.
The harder the splashes
The more its spires
Point upwards.


Unpublished Material, ©2011 Cali Digre