USA

 
Why?

Why is it that geese fly v-shaped through the winter sky
and the frigid earth sleeps beneath the ice, while frost drawings creep
across the glass-paneled wall? And I, am immune to the beauty
of winter’s assigned call, alas by the unaccepted duty
to face my arduous tasks with trepidation?

It is not the cold that paralyzes me, nor the white blanket I see
that brings me concern, t’was in my youth that snow-prints brought such truth.
It is from the frozen chambers of my heart, that reality has forced its way
back through the passages of forgotten dark, into the light of muted day
reminding me of the weight of the burden.

Frost fingers leave deep impressions on the windows, I receive
the touch of aging, my back sagging from the weight, and the lack
compensated by further work, that wearies and does little to define me
or anything else with worth, no value, beyond that which I see.
O that I could fly v-shaped into the seasons of time!


 

© All Copyright, Linda Boerstler.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.