Wednesday, 18 July 2012

When Only The Clouds Move

Don't be so sure,
It's as easy to say it wont snow tomorrow.
I feel the cold, can't you.
My limbs and extremities shook,
All I feel is numb.
Like ice, only not enough hair
To stand up to this.
A lot can happen before tomorrow.
Its getting cold as this day
Only grows short.
Where is everyone.
Time is ready to freeze
The blank sickness
Of the white sky,
And the tame frosted glass
Grass hills.
All still like a night illuminated;
I sit smudged across
A photo of warmth and awe,
In this frozen scene.
I burrow and dig,
I am long gone,
Frozen: just ice.
You'll come out in the thaw.

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