winter kills

Listen to the scraping sobs
that crackle softly,
that trying tickle of desiccated leaves
swept coldly into quiet corners
by the bitter whispers laced
within the mourning cries
of the northern dirge.
Gathering like teardrops
on a pillow, they disintegrate;
as winter kills.


Majestic trees stripped of glory,
now stand silent
as granite gravestones;
their emaciated branches
render naked,
reach into the icy darkness.
Pleading for mercy
below the cold stars
and the wandering ghost of a moon,
haunting the amethyst sky;
as winter kills.


A frigid river flows
through a shadowed valley
kissed with the season’s first snow;
unwanted shivers
flood over flesh, resurrecting
lost memories of warmth
once shared beneath
bright summer skies,
now a faded grey;
as winter kills.



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