I have a moment to say something, but nothing to say. Have a poem or two instead.


We
Icy
No-ones
To thee
Ever
Rote


Supposing
Purpose to be more
Resilient than
I in my infancy was willing to
Name,
Grant me a season of
Time gently waiting, to
Inspire by
Moments, and
Engender the same.



The falling snowflakes whisper joyful uncaring of tomorrow,
Tonight being so magnificent,
Bright with cold
Bitter of darkness,
So free from yesterday that no memory of warmth may save the body
Or condemn the soul
Tonight, Tonight
How atavistic are our breaths
The cold expands us
Loosens our moorings;
The snow laughs and dances: Here, here is the essence of the mortal lesson,
To live life uniquely, and
To die unceasingly,
Unhesitating of the fall.