Pricked by the bloom of winter flowers with thorns that soothe my skin.
I see a warm day’s moonlit sky; cold streaming from within.
Bare and barren, broken trees, shade night from reckless dreams.
At dusk, I wake from sleeplessness to silent piercing screams.
Through miles I wander, standing still, along this short-lived span.
Each step I take just leads me back to where my walk began.
Blind onlookers line the route; with sightless eyes they stare,
and jostle for position with the crowds that were once there.
With lowered glass, a portent toast to life’s all I propose.
Scent of decay is sweetened by the stench of summer rose