In the bleak midwinter

I would like, if it will, for time to freeze,
stand still so that breath becomes redundant,
superfluous steam in the empty air.
The beauty of the snow falls on a bleak,
not a meek heart, burning with cold fire
against the siren winter sunlight
with her false promise and steel claws
dangling shimmering hope, icicles suspended over
unwary patrons with a spring in their step.
I should like for time to freeze until the seasons fade, flame out,
until my cold soul melts, relaxing iron bonds and
puddles, cool and reflective under the blue-gray sky.

This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s