‘Every morn…I look up for a brighter sun,
to cast away clouds that still pursue me.

Told that time will move them forward,
patience should be a friend.

Though, all I feel as I gaze toward each daily set,
is that I am still losing both.

Wintery winds howl,
calling a bluff.
The sky’s story turns dark,
when only halfway.
Each of my breaths,
more and more breath.
They followed in dance,
but leave me too.
To chase drifts that whistle,
and those raw gales…
God, to the bone.
The forest taunts,
I hear the scratching.
Slowing motion, I’m straight into fear,
hopeless and alone.
I beg the moon a bond.

.

Take me to a Spring
where every day was as young as I
and the sun would come winking through the curtains