Winter-shrouded wooded ground ― bitterly cold ―
plodding snowed over paths.
Whirling snow kisses. Helping me live.
Cutting in ― setting traces in time ―
hearing a frozen to death stone rapture.
Sensing emotions colden.
Future now stands here in the trace-meeting ―
knowing the inner in your voice ― in our two parts:
Let me become the most beautiful spring-freed leaf you’ve seen.
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Author:
1 SIGFRIDSSON (
Offline) - Published: November 30th, 2023 08:30
- Comment from author about the poem: Taken from the book FOURTH CORNER-STONE by 1 SIGFRIDSSON.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
Offline)
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