Thursday, March 26, 2009

Resurrection

Fall is dead.
Winter rises howling from its grave,
Stinging tempest, banshee
Of ice.

Wailing dread
Frigid spinning pestilential plague,
Arctic necromancy
Device.

Gorgoned trees
Stand immobile frozen in surprise
Watching crystals grow on
Windows.

Horrid breeze
Howling, moaning, tearing at my eyes;
Winter gathers its breath--
And blows.

Deafening,
The fury that assaults my senses,
Gathering armfuls of
Tinder

So, dreading,
I watch his rise without defenses--
Resurrected: Old Man
Winter

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