As the days draw tight
and darkening, calling
to the remnants of
light, to remain in

shadowed hope, so
does the season pass
and we are wintered;
cold soil beckons to

remaindered leaves,
sucking final songs
of warmth from a
mellowed sun, even

as we grieve for the
loss of what once
was known, and in
silence wait, for new

beginnings, which
have yet to push their
way through chilled
unforgiving memory.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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3 Responses to Wintered

  1. V.J. Knutson says:

    This is beautiful – acknowledges the loss and sorrow and leaves the door open for hope and growth.

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