Sunrise, Thorns
Sunrise, Thorns
Like a sunrise over a frozen lake,
swept by wind, you burst into my life.
The illusion of warmth flowed
over me and filled me until
that day when you left.
Now alone I wander; chilled,
now worse because you
had covered me with warmth.
Where does one go to
hide from conscience-ness -
to hide from dreams?
Where does one go to hide from unwanted reality,
to try to stitch things back together
into a quilt that makes some
semblance of sense?
Where does one go to escape the sunshine
that is remembered so vividly that it pains?
Where does one go to find solace in the cold
emptiness of the wind-swept lake?
That first day when you had left, light faded
and I was impaled on the thorns of the rose
that I had sought.
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