Gripped

The day is gripped with frost,
it is brittle, it could shatter
in the silence a lone
robin sings, twittering
colour at the white rime

my bed is comfortable and warm
I enjoy the silence where
there used to be noise
I enjoy the solitude where
there used to be people

the fractures in my heart and bones
will never heal:  stigmata
of my ordeal, bones
crushed and re-formed
out of shape, heart broken
broken again
remade
but not whole

and at my right hand is lack
and at my right hand is hurt
and at my right hand is loss

there is no magic wand, no
Mage to take away
the frost:  unseen
winter landscape at the core
'bergs and freezing wind
snow tossed on ice

swear there will be
no more

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