“Winter’s Touch” by Linda M. Crate

i wish this lonely

hall of angst

would collapse inward

on itself, pushing all

the haunting memories out forever

so that peace could wing

her way across my eyes so insomnia

didn’t hold me in her constant

vigil as i sit bathed in the cold embrace

of moon silver’s outstretched hand —

dragonflies used to fly

across my soul, we used to get along

for our shy awkwardness was

so very similar;

they’ve abandoned me in these tears

of melancholy, not knowing

what to say for silence

is an improper response yet so are words —

this house is a funeral pyre,

and i’ll throw myself on it’s wooden doom

should i be left in this winter gloom


white fields of broken corn hold wisps

of promise i tried to collect,

your mocking laughter seduced me to tears

erosion wears on my heart

as i sit in this lamentation

not knowing how to rescue myself

from these dark winds

threatening to tear the threshold of joy from me

forever more, woodpeckers steal the nuts

they’ve burrowed deep within trees

walnuts cracked litter spring’s grass and flowers

bloom their joy as sun star gold sings his song

yet i will not be moved —

winter has reached out and touched my soul robbing

me of the topography of a smile,

i’ll never remember my happiness until you return.