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
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