Winter Be Gone
Your hands cold as death
Your bite killing like snake’s venom
Your breath leaving trees bereft
Of leaves, stripped, lonesome
Birds migrating to warmer land
Grizzly bears for hibernating send
To earth a carpet of snow lend
Chestnuts in the lap of fire spend
Gloved hands holding golden cognac in goblets
Men & women dressed in warm leather jackets
Wines, roasted almonds, soups and turkey breasts
Enjoy the gift of comfort and rests
On the other side of this scenario
People in numbers and not few
That suffer profusely because of you
Their tattered clothes are no shield
Of your ruthless biting teeth
Ill nourished, frail and ailing lots
Not haves but have nots
Your victims, your prey, weak and forlorn
Cry out ‘winter be gone’, ‘winter be gone’
(Judged Winner on Feb. 2, 2013 in the Winter be Gone Contest of Francine Roberts)
Copyright © Mohammad Yamin | Year Posted 2013
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