winter moonlight
spilt across frosted lilies
cold and pale white;
a scene played out
at the edge of a frozen pond
midnight indigo
above skeletal trees remembering green:
a forest in repose
watching and waiting out
the worst of the cold
somewhere within
the eddies in this
painted winter landscape
there is life
and warmth
reaching out
unable to touch
YOU ARE READING
collections of constellations and the stars || poetry collection
Poetrypoems often written at midnight, each telling its own story. an anthology of sorts. grammatically incorrect use of lowercase is an aesthetic choice and intentional. |incomplete|
