Seasons drape the shadows of life The dark corners Shade of ancient oaks They hide they protect   Armour against doubt and dread Seasons drape the shadows of life Occlusion’s illusions remain Wind borne particles scurry away   Stripped bare winter’s rough hands Steal from…

A swing in yellow A field behind Always reminds me of summers past And how the winter comes on so fast The warm summer sun replaced by Brisk autumn breezes Soon replaced by frozen winter rain  

One day in distant future Ice walls walled in our pride The few of us remaining And hiding deep inside An igloo city of the ancients Built by those who burned our world After they at least reflected And leaned into saving Gaia “Now ye…

Isolation It’s been dawn for days now Day breaking the horizon while Night fades Until the end of time I’m alone out here, in my cabin warm It’s just how I like it And in a week or three or more (I lost the track…

Alrighty – hour 9 with the prompt “hold this on your tongue”   Poem 9: If you hold this on your tongue and let it dissolve like a fresh fallen snowflake two days before your birthday you will engrain this taste into your memory.  …

They walked overnight Through the bellows of the storm, Tails held high and noses down The stoic pups made not a sound For Winter marched upon the land Like soldiers with a battle plan And there stood the icy craggy crown Of an invader to…

I’ve always wanted to see snow, To be in its cold embrace, To watch as it falls around me, My presence not getting in the grand way of things. Appreciate every single flake, For being so uniquely itself, Yet looking so beautiful, When it melds…

Hands A complex system of phalanges, muscles and nerves Graceful, dexterous, strong Brittle, fragile, frozen Basted with invisible snowflakes These fingers have pinched flames But fall prey to frostbite I do not want this manicure.

Every Saturday my lover and I Gathered with the other well-fed volunteers to load meals into a van, and then drive to our stations in Manhattan to hand them out, One-by-one. Mothers pushing strollers with Crack-glazed eyes, and Old men in ill-fitting overcoats lined up…

After some twenty of them had been disposed of during the waning moon with costumes and masks and enchantments he now wished he had not sacrificed his sons laughing they would never throw themselves down weeping to die of grief we have to rise just…