W h i t e () N o i s e
The noise broke white
from far behind
so it seemed,
that it was,
as the Douglas Firs bristled
in anticipation.
We watched from a nearby mountain peak,
bristled at the onslaught,
white weight barreling forth in giant sheets,
snapping hulked bark like matchsticks,
smothering all that stood in its path
of hard-hitting waves of frost-drift,
mountaintop cancer
like Schools of Stickleback -
trapped in Nantuckets Sleighride.
Nascent? no...you never see it,
tho' you'll never forget the sound
upon you as fast
as a bullet to the Brain;
their be no looking back
at its rush ofcarnage.............
....................... ...........................
A...v...a...l...a. ..n...c...h...e......!
_______ F j R ______
poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Added by Poetry Lover
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