Friday, 10 February 2012

Wintering


Season of broken glass;
the windows fragments
shatter beneath our feet.


This wintering
creeps its slow advance.
Powder white blanket
quilts our sleeping.


Snow swathed
our passion has chilled.
Within the darkened room
the embers still glow,
but the fire is spent.


And quietly
we await the thaw,
ice dripping from the gutter.

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