Silver-Grey
At the dimming of the day,
unfriended, by his fire he stands,
a warrior of the wasteland
body crippled by the elements' cruel hands.
Wind-burned and swept his hair is silver-grey,
a blend of black and white and every cast between
'til warrior and wasteland are the same.
His gaze fastens on the landscape
in winter light's slow fade,
lakes and mountains stained that silver shade.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2012
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