A whistling wind through windows of ice

Blue fractured patterns of light on fields of snow

Gray matted canvas of awkward twigs and clay

Cold ominous morning paper screens & dirty glass

Figurines containing impossible rivers of memory 

Where once was wherewithal,  withdrawn

Everything full of there was, now gone

With nothing more to know, to suffice 

( of suffering )

 Blue fractured patterns of light on fields of snow ❄️