White overpowers winter's array
and you fear color will never show.
For blanketed within a bland duvet,
depression deepens like falling snow.
Skeletal trees form sculptures of clay,
their edges defined by a sharp breeze.
And stenciled a statuary gray,
like fragmented fingers, branches freeze.
Frigid air wrestles your breath away,
accompanied by unyielding cold.
And muting the sound of children's play,
melancholy thoughts strengthen their hold.
Deepening potholes cause nerves to fray,
for anger broods within shadows cast.
And folks speculate on spring's delay,
dashing hopes that this weather won't last.
Purple and scarlet tint the sun's rays,
but sunset chills you to the bone.
For when day dims on such dreary days,
you feel abandoned and all alone.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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