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“The Mill wheel wouldn’t turn until the Spring”
“Old River’s” frozen heart a yearly thing
cold solace of deep snow a lonely gift
to those with ugly memories to sift.

For wheels that grind the truth in darkened minds
to sift the chaff of memories gone blind
will place a ghastly crust upon pure snow
and on the wind the question “Did you know?”

‘Whispers ran through the town from door to door’
lone footprints in the snow at rumors core
the rabid tongues of venom’s righteous quest
condemned sweet mercy’s visits as a test

and so beside the silence of the wheel
she hid the feelings “they” denied she feel.
Spring thaw, a time of which nobody speaks
‘Ice melts, revealing secrets – the wheel creaks’


©6/24/2018

for Viv Wigley – One, Nine, Sixteen V3.0 – Poetry Contest

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