December Poem

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Hehe I just realised this has forest -related metaphors in it. Finally my moniker makes sense! :)

December, haunted by the ghosts of trees
Ivory bones with icy fingers reaching
Capillaries in breathless lungs
Gasping in the inky black

Skeleton armies stand to attention
Porcelain soldiers rooted to the spot
Colour-drained and thin-limbed
Pleading for retreat

December, all is fine bone china
Held aloft and set to shatter
Painted with a paupers palette
Tipp-Ex towns united in white

Blanked out by a powder blanket
Frosted, frigid landscapes shudder
Whitewash skimming over inkblots
Forgiving all beneath

Created: Dec 22, 2010

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