poetry & things

Winters like this

Cold clouds, white in the greying skies

deep, they loom in the snowy heights

a frozen state, this silent place

where we have come

Ice, thick walled, that waits for spring

the trickle of water, that flows beneath

to see beyond cloud occlusions

our doleful delusions

Buried by northerly drifts of snow

our love, cold and far below

banked and piled high

lost to winter’s long goodbye

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