Landscape With Icefall by Marly Youmans

Landscape With Icefall

Imagine that a chandelier has fallen from the sky,
. . . .And dangerous cut glass lies shattered on the ground.
Imagine red, red blood that runs through heaps of emeralds.
. . . .Oh, no, not that: cold winter grass will never bleed.

Imagine crumpled winter leaves, still latched onto the tree,
. . . .That shake and rattle out the news to winter winds.
Imagine the blue hills around the frozen lake hold still,
. . . .That every swerving line of landscape’s packed with soul.

Imagine angels peering down in curiosity
. . . .To see the glitter of that dropped chrysanthemum,
And how I have by some strange mortal magic thrust my grief
. . . .Into the hills and lake, the grass and scattered ice.

Imagine that a chandelier has fallen from the sky,
. . . .Its mighty shine shared out among the grass and stones.
The little demons of the hills slink into shade and cry
. . . .Because my sorrow’s cold against their naked feet.

by Marly Youmans

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Twitter: @marlyyoumans

Editor’s Note: This poem shows off iambic feet with its focus on imagery, turned to an internal mirror in the third stanza (the speaker’s grief). Note from the poet: Unrhymed poulter’s measure, a mix of alexandrines and fourteeners or iambic heptameter.


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