A Winter's Tale
The fire is
Red orange pink
Lilac lavender
And gold
Delicate green highlights
Flicker at its heart: how hot its
,, Innermost parts are -
The only living thing
Near, my own fear of a
Void cold and dark, a
Void to pock my mind and
Freeze me here.
I am rigid, can barely
Blink, my colours stiff
All bleached to grey, coldly
They stick forlornly
To me like a crust of frost.
If I peeled them off, tried to
Separate my skin, I would break,
Chunks of me come off in my
Hand, I would disintegrate - no
Colour bold enough to hold me
I would float
Insubstantial as a ghost
.^, And memories would spill,
Leach away like blood from a
Cut artery.
So I stand very still
Avoiding jolts that might
Shatter the soul. I will
Bear the clamp of winter,
Brave its icy breath its
Dark silent strength, and hope
I can sustain the smallest flame,
The palest warmth, till spring
Brings sweetness and fragrant air
To thaw one lone being. I will
Watch my colours grow. I will
Be strong again, my skin
Supple, my body a reconstituted
Green.
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