snow angels

#40

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1. .

 

laying in the snow. 

 

cold creeping through my jacket sleeves,

under a laundry line i can barely see:

 

i watch the world go to grey then blue. 

 

my eyes well up and swell to seas,

my frigid fingers catch on matchstick trees. 

 

i listen to the sound of seagulls and loss. 

 

fading into the ice and breeze,

my throat catches my breath no more.

the sadness tears through sinew and bone:

 

it creaks and moans out crooked snores. 

 

Too soon i muster all my strength

to lift an arm

or maybe a leg.

 

Too little left to stand up straight,

i settle down back into the snow

 

and feel the world go from blue to grey. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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