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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2182112
A seasonal poem.
I am Winter

I am the gloom of Winter's gloom,
I am a season dying;

I am the last sobs of the sun,
The leaves' long lays, lying;

I am a crows deserted caw,
the blackbird's empty crying;

I am the starer into blank skies,
Expecting the ghost thrill, scrying.

I am the shrug of bare, cold leaves,
the weak winter warm, trying;

I am the passing haunt of breath:
cold as fronted mist, plying.

I am the dip, and rise, of wings-
the whitebellied geese farflying.


TonyHamid

22nd November2018

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