Concepts – Page 18

I wake to nothing
but the impression of you
left in my mattress
–
cold sweat-
twisted in
my bedsheets

white breath and mittens-
on the pond shaved ice gathers
the sounds of laughter
–
heavy blankets-
the sound
of falling snow

deep under water
looking back at the surface
as I sink farther
–
valentines day-
ice cracks
beneath my feet

written in anger
signed in blood and gently sealed
with the kiss of death
–
impending storm-
newspapers aloft
in the morning wind

hushed elevator-
the open doors close once more
leaving us alone
–
frosted glass-
winter air
seeps in

each time you leave me
it gets a little harder
to let you back in
–
terra cotta-
under the pot
the door key

the darkness complete-
standing on the precipice
shouting at the void
–
the village green-
I hunt for the
elusive middle

an empty city-
young maples rises up through
the broken sidewalk
–
an old plow-
reclaimed
by the forest

surrounded by wealth
still dissatisfied with the
overabundance
–
winter rain-
runnels
overflowing

the heat of the forge-
showers of embers rise up
into a gunmetal sky
–
cold anvil-
hammers
ringing