I wish I could say something pithy or important,
something beautiful, wise, poetic, but
as I look out at a frosted world of grass
and trees, flowers, drying tomato plants,
all whiter than the hairs on my head
I realize, Mother Nature has said it all.


About Ciletti

Jim Ciletti, an award winning poet, filmmaker, and author, is the 2010-2012, Poet Laureate of the Pikes Peak region, and for 41 years, poet-in-residence for the Orme School Fine Arts Festival. Jim gives many workshops on the writing and performance of poetry, and makes poetry house calls to create personal poetry events. Ciletti loves everything Italian, including cooking for family and friends, and loves to plant garlic, make homemade wine, and eating peaches and plums. "Everyday is Christmas, but you don't always get everything you ask for. Sometimes more. Poetry celebrates life."
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One Response to Frosted

  1. I have been sitting here at my big Mac, unaware of the passage of dinner time, wondering what you would look like writing in your or my underwear and reading more and more of your poetry. I must
    admit that I have lost myself in your mind sharing poetry. Thanks for the images.
    I am not in my underwear, but thought I would share one of my poems:

    “Time” by Chris Naughton
    Precious and fleeting.
    Gone before it arrives.
    Too much in awkward, lonely moments.
    Too little in lullabies.
    More than enough
    to find happiness.

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