Don'T Leave Me In the Winter
Pin prick tattoos from wind nipped lobes,
designs from cracked and wrinkled scrolls;
don’t leave me in the Autumn’s robes
amidst the drift of wandering souls.
I'll weep behind night drunken suns
in drizzly, drowsy fruitlessness;
where vines lay bare 'round garden run;
and frost keeps winsome, Ge repressed.
I'll lose my mind as knotted knuckles
still rap the pane and crook a finger
and limbs of old oft mock with chuckles
while all my restlessness still lingers.
My soul will quake where Northwinds chide
and seep through cracks in firm shut doors,
don’t leave me where the Winter thrives
and snow reveals no kinder shores.
Don’t leave when sun is layered thin
and glints off bars of iron ice,
where gawking snowmen judge my sins
with heavy thoughts and brutal vice.
Just take me with you when you leave
behind the teasing thaws of war,
where trees take shape from the bereaved
accepting ice forevermore.
Don’t leave me in the haunted lair,
the dank and dismal realms of white;
my heart can’t bare the stale affair
that courts depression in the night.
Copyright © Jean Marble | Year Posted 2006
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