My silent gods
Absent tonight
With glass in hand
A pen to write
But barriers of
Snow linen lock
My will to fail
Writers block.
Tender dreams
Nostalgic thought
Rivers of years
Roll back and forth
The more I try
No release
An orator
Without speech.
A moment caged
To freedom seek
A magical ride
An unknown street
Autumn now
With Winter curled
Ready to spring
When unfurled.