A distant call in the wayward throes
Of winds in blight by winter snows
For night resounds the chill and cry
The white that soars without respite
As crystal droplets fall in line
I gaze unto a lighted sky
A hollow field in distant view
Adorned in color of Orion’s hue
Pastoral lined with hollyhock
Groomed pastures and a forest mock
a danger’s fire set alight
In here a room, where troubles write
Although my cry is true and free
Within ordered life an ignominy
I, bound with shackle, often wrought
A desperate roar for winter shock
So to scenes of winter’s care
I take my pen and so despair
To tint the white of an empty note
with words ablaze as heaven wrote
The cry I hear among distant wind
Responding to my own within
As hollow memories to me flock
I detail them as to me they walk
Once ended I take down my pen
And look upon the lighted den
Of a meadow I sought in distant view
Now empty, tired, void of hue
For my winter time has come to end
And snow melts fire, a lonely friend
Consumed in me and ever sure
That life has come and gone once more
-j.m.
