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| Image: C. Parant Appetite for Photos |
I feel the chill of winter days
it seeps through skin, infects the bones;
weighing heavy on the weak;
it leaves the weary to atone.
High on a hill, a leafless tree
stands by itself, a sentry,
the arctic blast seeks out its limbs
as much the same, it seeks my own.
The words don’t come so easily
perhaps I wallow in illusion
this hope of being whole again
nothing but a sad delusion.
Pip, pip, dear friends, stiff upper lip!
Such fear and angst are overblown!
The hollow echo of the wind
blows through the chambers, deep within,
reverberates now empty halls;
Yet no one hears the background noise
for each is busy with their own,
and I, I stand against the wind
and like the tree, I stand alone.
©Ginny Brannan 2022
Image: C.Parant, Used with permission.
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Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.