Darkened hours before the light
Sun surfacing slowly
Winter nights draw on
Cold heart
Cold hands and feet
Rise in the morning
Mistake it for dusk
Back to bed
Going back to sleep
Tag Archives: Cold
Numbing Days
Odyssey of ice
The northern trails I follow
Call out through the forest, bare branches ring hollow
Timbers littered with standing dead
In the mute season, we all look the same
Dread grey, sleet white, frostbite black
The long path
Some don’t come back
Journey
Wintering
The season takes hold
Puts me in my place
February comes, blizzards in its’ wake
Winds shaking this old house
Temperatures plummet
I’ll try to wait it out
Doubt creeping like the cold
Cutting to the bone
The season takes hold
The Ice Below
Skies are mute and grey
Sun has all but gone
Clouds span from horizon to horizon and beyond
Slumber
Yawn
Lids pull over eyes
Overcast
Diving into sky
Overhead, the surge and roll seem endless
Search the bleak expanse, where lost crews are stranded
Another night at the bottom of the world
Awaken, again into the cold
The Northern Desert
New year, just as frigid as last week
More winter months ahead
Ice in heavy sheets
Sleet to muddy the eye
Blankets of snow
Bed of another kind
Slip beneath time’s flow
Season of darkness
When frost bites at the windows
Grayscale
This desert of the north cold
Biting
Arms crossed, perched upon an ice box
Rod tucked under arm
Cold days of early winter
Fingers feeling numb
Somewhere deep in thought
Broken only for a moment as the line goes taut
The clock sets
Lost under horizon
Marking the end
Homeward goes the fisherman
Tracing
A breath of air, exhaled against glass
Figure of eight, crude face, traced as seconds pass
While away the morning
Sun peeks over treetops
Greeting me less warmly
Adorned with wool and fleece
Cold nips at my fingers and settles in my feet
Sleepy memories I’d rather put to rest
Rise in the street, shake ice from hair with hands
Already cold to the touch
Free coffee in the lobby of a bank, with some luck
To the back lot for a spell
Roll a cigarette
Snap back to here and now
Shade of Winter
Reaching out into light
Cold night air, clinging at the shadows
Flowers in the door yard
Beauty of the fall
A hard Winter’s warning
Mid autumn morning heeds the call
Frost stalling for a moment
Lingering in darker places
Soon to mist, then gone
Traceless, weightless vapors
Chased off by the Sun
Wintering
Come in from the cold
This old house may not be pretty
Wind through gaps and cracks
Old plaster patches crumbling
Thatch holding back the ice
Providing warmth and lodgings
Dust bunnies and brown mice
Home fires all their own
This place may not be pretty, but it seems to have good bones
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