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I am as bleak today as the frozen road,
The compacted path a concealed cliché,
My way is as hard as rails. The low sun
Rushes to my eye, unrefracted and white
Concealing dirt beneath tracks pristine.
Summer suffocates. Its butterflies'
Fluttering stench seeks awakening.
What will it find? Hard winter is clean.
Something dark sleeps fitfully within:
Safe now, care is requisite in spring.
Edited 7th Jan 2010
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About Me
- A Man Without Qualities
- If you are interested in my musical side a link to my other blog can be found on my profile page.
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