A piece of the sky, So calm and so blue, evokes Blissful days, no fear. Dead fingers of cold, reaching - Tell old man winter is near.
Withered, stiff, dull, dead? Within, sounds of life - burrow. Hidden, sheltered, safe.
Bursting forth, through death And decay; Burning so bright, In fierce defiance.
Another passage. First so bright! Then…dull. Reminds, One day I will rest.
Fingers extending; Threatening cold, advancing Darkness to follow.
Pretty once, still, but fading An empty gift, one sorely missed The void grows, Consuming and terrifying, Then, fiery words, ignite and seduce Tired eyes, glued, to flickering screens Glorious purpose, fills and makes whole A desired reprieve, from the horror of emptiness No truth can dislodge, The lie at the center The allegiance found, … Continue reading Wilted
ay Secrets once hidden, Exposed. Bare trunks, naked limbs - Reach to a cold sky.
Blinds open, surprise! Blanket of snow covers all; A moment of pause.
Barrier unseen Usually; seasons pass Silently, covert. Yet here before me displayed, Demarcation of a turn.
Conformity rules, It may be said. But how dull Is life, with no spice?