Awoke slightly,
Some winter bruised morning
Late this January.
Brisk gasps of cold air
Rattle my rib cage
And silence my hearts plea for
The earth to tilt more quickly.

The two golden orbs of light are cowardly this season,
Hibernating just beneath the horizon,
Absorbing the warmth that radiates deeply from the core,
And shedding no rays upon that of mine.
Even the stars deserted, unhinged themselves
From the black backdrop and sprinted off into the darkness.

Had to jumpstart my heart,
Before I could use my limbs.
I miss Autumn dearly, and always.
Hail and snow beat the window,

Somewhat lost in orbit,
I'm distinguishing seconds.
Clock language,
And the sound of space.
Pin drops, they say.

Time again, I try abandonment.
But myself always finds me,
Resigned and scattered,
Everything but lost. Lose.

It's time for a win.
Again, I'm lovesick for Autumn.
But mostly for change.

Poetry by Shawn Monahan
Read 901 times
Written on 2008-02-02 at 21:51

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David L Wright
Reasons to head south for the winter. Good write neighbor and well said. Happy trails.