Tuesday, November 29, 2011

23 days before winter (or Dawn is Dead)

You might expect the night to be like this

merciless,
swallowing you whole

then the dawn comes
and she's
cold and pallid
no pulse

somehow you're surprised
when
you poke her
hoping for a quiver
but she doesn't move

nothing rises
nothing grows

begging for a break
you lie down beside her
curled up, a question mark
but it's all no good

give it up son,
she won't see you anymore



you, like her

dead

til

spring

comes

No comments: