Winter Colour

PPDec2018

I captured Winter
and took it home,
kept it locked up
where it’s deep,
monochrome frozen heart
lay silently in my lap
and was lulled to sleep.

I held there such power
of an ancient time,
while, unknown to me,
it waited patiently
until some unknown
appointed hour
to address my crime.

Confused, then, my look
when I saw the child
in a sudden burst
that shook iridescent colour,
and while Winter thawed
so was I returned
back into the wild.

Author: George McDermid

I scratch out poems, and the odd little tale. Mostly for my own amusement.

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