Flurrying
By Eric Mohrman

this
crystal mist
em-
bellishes

flicker-bleak evening (the

           waxing moon blotched behind

sheets of wandering winter
clouds)

sunken flake drunken-
ness lands
in
pin-
point
skin
pir-
ou-
ettes

rest-
less season

fading foot-
prints

white-waltzing

whoosh

Eric Mohrman is a poet and freelance writer living in Philadelphia. He has no BA, MFA, or degree of any sort, nor intentions to acquire one. His poems have appeared in a previous issue of Prick of the Spindle, Big Scream, Portland Review, The Furnace Review, Moria, and other journals.

© 2008 prickofthespindle.com