Friday Nite Poetry: Cold Verse

Every year my joints like winter a little less. Yeah, I know I am whining, and it could be so much worse. Still, SoCal looks more enticing every year. I have to admit though, there is a certain pride that comes from living in a region known for its snow and cold. Western New York may not be Minnesota, but we do OK in the Winter Wonderland department. On the upside, just two more months until Spring.


Claws born on long windy arms
a lonely
white howl
into the long
dark night
hunting me across the bright and still landscape
the trek of a mile becomes ten leagues

Tear into me
through downy armor
bite and rend
and drink the warmth
from my feeble flesh

Hound me with your terrible will
drive into me with your irresistable fury
pull my legs from under me
and delay me from hearth and home

I fear you not
old companion
ancient enemy
but welcome you
and your passing
like a silvered and sullen trophy
placed on the mantle of my memory
a boast of another bout survived

This season I defy you once more
as I have so often in days gone by
this season we walk together again
at least once more before I die


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