TheFeatheredSleep – Something cold
Almost sun up
the tinder box within my chest
is scratched free of ignition
I have nothing left to light
against encroaching darkness
for so long, it was only you
who kept me burning, fed the diminished
flame within
now, cold weather comes hunchbacked
like a visiting relation who has
no regard,
streets are emptied, as ducklings for feasting are
short-lived in their joy, for we live in a climate
spoilt with her bounty
the people proclaim Winter their enemy
hiding inside, till blessed sun returns
to bake streets into their usual direct lines.
I have always loved the cold
for it is somber, serious, it does not apologize
for not laughing or smiling toothily for a photo
the cold is an adult, a survivor
and my warmth is now swept out
into the street to nourish next years
growth.
You have left me ransacked, weighed with grief
or rather…
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