Looking through the windowpane as it rains - Are these tears, or tiny rivers of pain?
Wondering why the heartaches on moody days - The grey shade of clouds imitating the lonely soul of blue.
The drumming of the storm, the pounding in my brain - All these feelings are they real or am I imagining.
Cold and lonely the whispering winds blow - Howling like the wounded soul.
Wrapped up in comfort with this blanket I wear - Sipping chamomile tea on this worn-out chair.
The haze of the weather the fog of my mind - The hands of winter ever reaching, creeping near.
The light in the distance glowering - The distant rays of endless summer days faltering.
Dusk delivers a mighty freeze - Ice is building, bending branches, and breaking trees.
The hound is snoring while outside it is pouring - The old house is groaning and the heater roaring.
My frozen toes anchored in wool - A race to the bed, with sheets so cold they invite the dead.
With each fierce gale throughout the night - I wrap my body like a cocoon pulling my covers ever so tight.
Dawn breaking over a somber frozen land - and old bones creaking as I blow into these frigid hands.
As a fresh snow falls, blue in the depth of shadows call - and the frost nips like a rabid dog at my toes.
A silence that grips - warm breath on the arctic air - a blanket of white on the earth she wears.
My feet on this frozen land, my lungs fill with this icy air - Can you feel it, this dawning of a New Year?
Muted rays of this day's last light, out with a wink - Usher in the veil of night, a starless sky black as ink.
Under the warmth of covers, I will sleep and dream of days past - for tomorrow is just another day.
About the Creator
Kevin Klabon
I am an artist, a musician, an author, a poet, a magician of the written word.
I live no life without pen and paper, or a paintbrush in hand.
If you could share your love for what I love, I would love you to the moon.
Comments (1)
beautifully done