talkin’ winter blues

Typewriter5by Dryden18 Jun 2014

in this spinning white apocalypse
creep obsessions of escape on fantastical trips
my refraction captured in the crackled pane
as wicked wind twists itself insane
lashing pellets driven and swirled
skim the snowy waves etched and curled
dancing me, dipping me mesmerized
below pale spot of sun – blurred and paralyzed

by high noon the day’s white and dark
like dirty thirties dustbowl stark
yet in this circle frozen bound
yearning echoes of spring confound
but if i slip beneath their call
toward red sky i hope to fall