Flowered ice paintings,
upon frosted window panes,
amused by the sunlight,
filtered through in veins.
Frozen hinges squeak,
with a crack in the cold,
my years are now numbered,
it makes me feel so old.
The trees are all skeletons,
beyond the gate,
the howling of the wind,
frosted ice winters fate.
Sky is clear and blue,
the sun is yellow and weak,
days are short, nights are long,
the bitter cold makes it bleak.
Author notes
image by Katherine Dinger, the name of it is speedsnow2 , "The trees are skeletons beyond the gate"
Comments
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Even without the picture here you can see it come to life with your words my darling Kye.. you are amazing and I love you for being you.
Ra
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