The winter sun, poor ghost of itself,
hung milky and wan behind layers of cloud
above the huddled roofs of the town.
Buildings war-burnt and scarred,
tall trees charred and buckled, grotesque
monuments to what once thrived here.
Where was wisdom? Where was hope?
Had they become collateral damage too?
The people crept silently and wept openly,
fearful that their lives were forever done.
Yet there remained a single tree of resilience
where hope grew on the shoulders of wisdom.....
Todays prompt from Linda at dVerse poets is to use an opening sentence from a novel to influence ones poem. From quite a few options that Linda gave us I chose ~
‘The winter sun, poor ghost of itself, hung milky and wan behind layers of cloud above the huddled roofs of the town.’- Thomas Mann, Tonio Kroger, Penguin, 1955
Here is the link: Opening Lines