This What Winter Brings
This is what winter brings.
Depressions vines climbing its way back across the mind.
Fleetingly vamping across acres of its inner shell.
Cutting all the warmth that was once held within.
Freezing to the inner core.
A stillness spreading sadness,
An overwhelming grayness.
Breathing coming in asthmatic gasps.
Choking, coughing for a breath of air.
Releasing cloud wisps.
That can be seen by everyone's eyes.
It is now the onset of winter.
The longer nights.
The shorter days.
The crispness in the air.
Knowing soon all life will succumb to its Summers end.
Leaves falling, trees barren.
No flowers sending their scent into the brisk air.
No birds singing melodies to fill the morning sky,
No crickets violinist playing until dawn's early light.
A coldness is all that will be worn.
Sleep is all that will be craved.
Hands, feet unable to feel heat.
Snow will adorn, ice will form.
Madness will ensue.
Stay hidden.
Wrapped up.
As a mad one who lost a true soul mate.
Behave like a good sailor's wife.
Keep watch through the window pane.
Look for signs of life.
Pine away until the trees wake from slumber,
Flowers start to bloom.
Hear the birds sing a favorite song.
Dance to the violins of the crickets song.
Copyright © Maryann Porto | Year Posted 2023
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