Winter's Blood
Nature's dust,
Caking softly white
Silver rust,
Upon globes of grapes.
Protective,
Wit' her moon powder, of
Autumn's gift:
Her purple sugar.
Aching heart!
Poison'd blue & red,
Nature's blood,
Seal'd in winter's grape.
Hide away here her endless vine,
Her infinite potion of crimson wine.
Copyright © Welsonn Goh | Year Posted 2013
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