The warm summer breeze drifts into autumn
settles into winter...snow on my pain.
Staring thru glass, frost on the pane
withered limbs bend...bare branches reign.
Outstretched arms longing me near
glistening 'cicles...shedding a tear.
Cloud my mem'ries, fog the window
white coat wraps yet my soul is cold.
A shroud of empty bitter cold burns
...waiting for the warmth to return.
©Feb 28, 2009 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
for Patrice Frost, who will rise from the ASH to do great
things...
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