April 13, 2012
Cold. Sunshine and green, yet cold. Cold wind,
Cold sky, relentless blue pressed against feathered
Clouds where bird and man and God are king only
Windows open both inward and out, light fills all
Crevasses of soul and world, sun spilling threw
Countless miles to reach optics only partly, for
Flesh obscures. Fountains bubble and seethe out
Thin streams of white and clear, faintly telling their
Quiet secrets to any who chance pause by their torrential dwelling.
And in the end, there is cold.
Created: Jul 26, 2012A.C. Moore Document Media