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Winter's Touch by M.A. Michaels
A winter's death is not unexpected
snow falls softly, blanketing another friend
Too soon but
unending white muffles my cry

I kick at the drifts, trying to clear a path
to summer
but there's always more

My hands freeze as I grope for the familiar edge
there
shake out the lumps of ice and bark
and drag it away

Up here the town is a postcard
Christmas lights, curling smoke
and too bright stars
I lay myself down
breathe in pain and
launch myself into the dark

too fast
too brief
I roll to a stop
rise, like a snowman
and walk back up the hill

Continue with Winter Favorites



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