Winter’s Whisper

Okay, so the wind outside tonight is actually more of a howl. 60 mph gust, I reckon? That’s if you believe the weather man on TV. It’s only Novemeber but we’re expecting snow, again, and supposedly blizzard like conditions due to the wind. Should be a fun commute in the morning …

Photo by Kevin Hurtack 2015
Photo by Kevin Hurtack 2015

Spectral hands drift across this arid land

searching for what forever more is nothing but a dream

of days long gone filled with song of sun and azure skies.

Frigid winds whip like waves of a turbulent sea

swallowing up the last remains of summer’s glee

leaving the wreckage of our revelry

on an ice-choked shore where no mortal man dares to be.

Billowing drifts and intricate ice crystals draped over every branch like lace

lakes frozen reflecting like a looking-glass

snow-capped peaks jagged and ominous

like lumbering beasts of antediluvian days

while men cower under their blankets dreaming of warmer times.


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