Winters Desire…

Winters cold wind spreads across a field of summer fallow,

as snow falls gently,

softly tapping on shoulders that have bourn so much,

and whisper cold memories of warmer times.

Landing on tongues, as we giggled,

and caught the low January sun through a dappled forest light,

shimmering as it fell on its way

to the dance floor,

the flash of light and the beat of my heart to the rhythms of this one,

true desire.

And in the grey of my voice calling out to this wind,

and the frigid illusions of these now, tepid dreams,

I am unable to move.

And staring out to what, I’m not sure,

hidden by layers of lies, I can only imagine what awaits.

And with this knowing doubt, I am frozen in my own fear.

Feet always moving towards a simple end,

but a mind stationary, and unable to reconcile the truths of where I am…

And more simply,
why…

Grant Waddell

Darkness…

Crow

The shadow cast 
on this moonless night
by ravens black
it’s wings spread wide in the expanse
as it glides silent towards shimmering curtains
draped over northern hills.

Oh this night I will wear tucked under my chin
with it’s seam held tight to my chest with clenched fists
and wait for the first rays of this, another day
to warm the weave of it’s black chill.