Cold Across a Windowsill

if just for a moment seasons change as river water slows morning dreams wake upon the sweetest of memories you are lost between years and nowhere are there tears a wind whispers cold across a windowsill open where lingers the flavors of a young man’s summer snow lies frozen in the still of silence as air holds like ice in a throat just about to speak rhyme across an acoustic guitar strings eyes go closed where autumn stalls a voice sings across chance a man sees water fall across his sighs as sweat upon his tries if just for a moment you believe in the mirror nailed to a closed door where less than nothing is only more. - jude