Endless Winter

 

The narrowing days consume the aperture’s light

As winter’s hands dress the warm soil in blankets of white

And too, summer’s passions flicker away into the last embers

Before a frigid grasp claims foolish lovers; lost and not at home

Safe, in golden slumber; awaiting the sweet songs of spring’s rite

That gainsay a death’s epilogue and ease the peril one remembers:

How the isolation and regeneration grasses of brome

Swayed and soothed away an endless winter’s night.