Poetry

The Winter of Our Lives

The temperature outside, below 30 degrees at time,

Is warmer than the center of my heart

The snow of the mountains, the ice on the car

Can’t match the frost reflected in my eyes

The rain that falls, attempting to wash away the past

Can’t cleanse these memories from my mind

This is the Winter

Of our lives.

 

Soon, hopefully soon, but terribly late

Spring will have no choice but to break through the haze

Soon, hopefully soon, but dreadfully slow

Spring will burst forth its blooms having survived the snow

Soon, hopefully soon, Spring will arrive

But until then, this is the Winter

Of our lives.

 

©KaylaAnnAuthor

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18 thoughts on “The Winter of Our Lives”

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