Monday, January 12, 2015

A Frigid Affair

Cold pours
crisp air.
Wind devours.
Sky sours.
The bitter wisp
of winter's kiss
made clear
as frozen fear.

Silence jeers.

We can't
this numb land
in winter's hand.

We come undone
in the absent sun.
A deafening

We run
our endless run
headed way south
from winter's mouth.

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