Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Ian Pindar

Snow

Snow

Snow

on a metal contraption of some kind
erected in the woods, the height of a man,

can be knocked off with a black branch
revealing tiny rivets, a bolt or two,

but nothing more of the machine’s purpose
than can be guessed at from its peculiar shape

and solitary position
out here where nobody lives or works or ever 
comes

with only the wolves for company,
howling in the wind that whistles through its 
delicate wires,
       sending us to sleep.
Close

Snow

on a metal contraption of some kind
erected in the woods, the height of a man,

can be knocked off with a black branch
revealing tiny rivets, a bolt or two,

but nothing more of the machine’s purpose
than can be guessed at from its peculiar shape

and solitary position
out here where nobody lives or works or ever 
comes

with only the wolves for company,
howling in the wind that whistles through its 
delicate wires,
       sending us to sleep.

Snow

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère