Internal Bonfire Among Bitter Breaths
As a misty autumn succumbs to winters harsh chilling grasp.
The sky turns bleak and hues of shrouding grey.
The ominous days unfold shorter and colder.
The remnants of vegetation lie pitifully withered and sparse,
as nature rests dead and in the throes of decay.
Early morning frost like sprinkled powder
smothers a barren land
and shards of ice hang from naked trees as fingers of a hand.
Dewdrops appear like goosebumps,
along a parade of wrinkly naked trees.
Bare branches and rooftops seem lifeless,
as birds have no desire for frosty serenades.
Trampled iced leaves, decay in ashen damp air,
as snail-like sluggish humanity adorns its seasonal fleece.
Despite winter's scentless bitter breaths,
the soul ignites an internal bonfire -
radiating a vigilant glow to the surface.
Silent One collaboration with Peter Dome.
13 November 2020
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2020
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