Written for dVerse

I missed the deadline for “Once upon a” so here it is for open link. Thanks. 🙂



Once upon a night

as meteors soared

illuminating obscurity

we understood fragility

each sacred breath

woven in cold white

a breath never to breathe again.


Lilac orchids in snow;

cacti in swamp.


I gathered the annuals in pots

before the freeze

upset by their death

although it never bothered before.

The early darkness seizes

me, portending winter snow

days wrapped in cold midnight

grayness, slate skies,

solitary tempest suggestions

of sleep, bitter sleep.



16 thoughts on “Hush

  1. the orchids in snow….such a magical thought. the hothouse beauty breathing in the cold. this is so very beautiful Sascha

      1. I love snow and we had ice flurries in Wed afternoon. can you believe that! on the equator! I thought it so magical. your poem really has such a unique feel to it

      2. It was 77 here today, like summer when we’re normally 50’s. Strange weather. Ice flurries on the equator. If I were a pessimist, I’d say: end times. But I’ll just say, climate change is doing strange things.

      3. like you I see climate change nothing more, and we are the instruments of that change. but it was kind of cool!

    1. BTW, I went to leave a comment on your poem when I was using my mobile and thought it was an issue with the app, but even on my desktop, I can’t leave a comment. Did you disable comments?

  2. The ‘hush’ breathes through your poem, Sascha, preparing for sleep! It shimmers with fragility and cold whiteness. I love the imagery of orchids in snow and cacti in swam, and the way the poem changes to the autumn task of gathering annuals before the freeze and then ponders on darker days ‘wrapped in cold midnight’ and hibernation.

  3. Each breath, frozen, passing. Each moment. A longing for touch of eternity as each breath is born and passes, and a passage back and forth between peace and sorrow. Oh this quiet press of time and circumstance, you have framed it beautifully in microscopic detail, a contribution to the histology of existentialism. This has much the feel of Uber alle Gipfeln by Goethe. I don’t know if I have ever given higher praise to a poem. Check out this with a Longfellow translation and a vignette

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.