Seasons – Page 127

pulled taut and snapping
the pole holding fast the flag
standing at half mast
–
icy rain
her cheeks
freshly wet

waiting for the thaw
beneath fallen leaves and snow
a box turtle sleeps
–
frosted windows-
deeply burrowed
under blankets

the year’s longest night
herald the winter solstice
ere the morning comes
–
watching our breath-
the black of night
pierced by stars

a torn cap worn low
collar turned against the wind
shrouded in darkness
–
a squalid doorway-
scant shelter from
the bitter cold

early morning haze
the pale tint of the full moon
just above the trees
–
first light-
the fog and I
rise together

contemplating life
and remembering the dead
this cold winter night
–
the cutting north wind-
heavily laden with
bitter freight

absent sounds of night
muffled by the blanket of
winter’s arrival
–
sudden snow
a southbound flight
interrupted

I’ve changed all my locks
somehow your keys still fit in
and still turn me on
–
cold winds blow
your call comes through
in the dead of night

waiting for the train
a low mournful whistle drones
off in the distance
–
an iron sky
heavy snow falls
on distant peaks

stolen innocence-
inured to constant violence
and lost empathy
–
distant wildfires
a false sunset in
the eastern sky