Monday, December 15, 2008

Turn

Our current posture leaves us prone
to longer colder nights alone
and sullen skies of swirling slate
that amplify the constant moan

of wistful winds that won’t abate
while frozen mounds accumulate
until a metamorphic stone
revolves enough to alternate.

2 comments:

Art and Poetry said...

very nice!!

rch said...

thanks, your words are greatly appreciated