Monday, November 17, 2014

Winter


What may winter do?
When it comes soon
Sweeping down brown vales
With icy, silver teeth
To gnaw upon its sibling's remains
Warmth shall desert us
Hope shrink in fading light
For a little time we are bereft
But this arc of intemperance will pass
For nothing may have totality
Not you, not I, not kings or queens
And if I lived in a deep cave
In arrogance thought to hide
I would feel winter descend above
For if it is a state of the soul
What winter may do; is renew us