The Slowing

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

There comes a time,
when there is a slowing,
when the snow is too heavy
and too deep,

when I cannot put
the black harness
on the back of my little horse,
so I must walk it back
to the tack-room
through thigh-high drifts,

and that is when I catch
a glimpse of her
through the open barn door.
She is munching a mound of hay
from last summer’s days,
and it is the sound of happiness.

18 Comments

Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry

18 responses to “The Slowing

  1. Nice 1
    Happy poetry Day

  2. I like this Ethel! Quiet reflection, and clear observation as always.

  3. Lovely! Although Terry and I work as hard as we ever did…we feel the slowing.

  4. extrasimile

    yeah Ethel, I just wrote a story calkled Mr and MRS. molasases.its on a similar theme. id be interested in what you thin k. I just sent the storyh rto TOM

  5. extrasimile

    Ethel==I feel I owe you a ,little more than my chevalier treatment of last night. I get so wound up as the day goes a long…
    the first thing I’d like to say is that your poem and my story have not much in common. your working in something like the haiku tradition, with its focus on induvial experience. you very much inhabit this poem. its not objective nor is intended to be. its what we hardly know,. could you understand this poem if you can’t stand in the snow?

    • I think there is a universal thought in this that doesn’t matter if you experience a heavy wet snow or not. There are many kinds of snow here.There isn’t just light snow but many kinds. This heavy snow of course is a symbol of heavy despair, of heavy burden. I don’t think it matters. Love Ethel

  6. There is a lot of symbolism here. Really enjoyed that piece.

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