top of page
  • By Mid Walsh

Fallen Crystal & Other Poetry

That crystal pointed flakes of snow 

could ever dull, defies the mind.  

But it is so, if one can find 

an avalanche.  


It is a fact: wind plunging downward by the ton  

shears the frozen stars within.                        

When silence falls, the broken snow 

is hard as stone.  


Have you walked a mountaintop,  

whose height gave way to dazzling fall, 

the crystals heaving, churning, grinding,  

stopping breath? 


To fill my heart, I walked  

upon the curve of snow swept and left  

at the lip of a rising hill. Then love fell 

and entombed us.


Pomegranates grow from salty dirt, 

but they never taste of brine or grit.   

Quarter one and press the cheek; splay 

concave its inner flesh – again you’ll taste 

among those polygons of pods, the seeds  

containing rain-wine, soil’s bittersweet. 


When you have lived in dry or salty places  

have you conceived such deep, clear juices? 

Be silent; drink. Let your lips be stained  

with truth, your whitest shirt be ruined.  

Earth is so complex! And you, sweet seed, 

must only take in what your nature needs.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Mid Walsh is a poet, singer, athlete, husband, and grandfather living near the ocean. With an English BA from Yale University and an MBA, he has conducted careers as a carpenter, a hi-tech executive, and a yoga studio owner. His poetry renders his life experiences into the music of language. Mid's poetry is forthcoming in or has appeared in The Road Not Taken, Nixes Mate Review, Blue Unicorn, Silkworm, and Lily Poetry Review.

bottom of page