Outlook
when I last looked
snow sprawled in
like an embrace from a foreign world
outdoor walk suspended
by squabbles of sleeted wet
unappealing chords
of ice pellets that stand hair on edge
to coat a hatless head in splinters
force that shapes a winter's pace
implanted temper
abrasions
in tracks of snow
as February squeezes into loins
an ache
my icy fingers
trace the window, vaporized
a shield of separation
a pledge of freedom re-booted
like green paths rising
a shifting focus
till March tramps into place
month of mis-rule
ornamental promise
that a turnstile world
clangs change
when I next look
to turn the page
Poem written February 23, 2023
Copyright © Brian Sambourne | Year Posted 2023
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