spring
anyone who has livedthrough the numbing darkness
of northern winters
understands
the dead do not burn in hell
they freeze
we who have survived
find hope again
as the sun returns
bringing
glassy blinding reflections
and dripping trees
the healthy young
in a friction free world
flying on the friendly ice
while we aged
move with concentrated steps
to avoid a broken hip
Poetry by Wumbulu
Read 553 times
Written on 2013-03-04 at 15:35
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
shells |
Texts |
by Wumbulu Latest textsThe Syllogism of the MadLook Around There When Between the Posts Love Dies |
Increase font
Decrease