…weave a weary song
The cold wind
hammers sharp splinters of ice
into my very soul
tearing away at the cobwebs
that have gathered
in the shadows of my heart
in place of the flowers
of love and light
the shadows that hid from me
the truth and the reality
in a darkness
that made it impossible to see
that you were already gone
that I had been lying
in the unmarked grave
of our once bright life
unaware that the roses
had withered in my arms
and now waves of winter
are weaving a weary song
and the morning pales
in its ghostly grasp
the last of the leaves
wantonly embracing
in the swirling wind
I am alone
barefoot in the snow
walking on thin ice
that in my heart
somehow reminds me of you
and in the moment
I am still dreaming
of the fire of your touch
as I am falling
through the broken surface
still drowning in your oceans
© Ann Bagnall
