You Are The Winter

You are the Winter.

Not the beautiful snow that falls and graces the earth with pale flakes and sparkling dust.

You are the hard and unbreakable ice.

You are what's left over when April comes.

You are covered in black ash when roads shove you to the sidewalk.

You didn't come to bring a joyous Christmas,

and you aren't going to drop so delicately into January.

You drag on and on.

You keep the air frigid with the piercing sting of red cheeks.

You are neither mystical nor enchanting.

You are a washed up season of regrets.

A long and tiresome hour of ripped mittens and lost caps.

You creep up like a frosty hurricane only to destroy colorful smiles and warm faces.

You are unforgettable for being the intense flurry of pain that comes with a glow of white. 

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

a a flurry of pain is your winter, your regrets are the ugly slush left over, even during the time that your heart needs to thaw and embrace warmth....i like the theme of these pieces...

as in s& g's "april come she will"

"a love once new has now grown old"