Tuesday, September 21, 2010


A slippery step on the ice is hard to take
When the weight of past seasons won't go away

Summer left swiftly and wordlessly
Every un-answer remains a mystery 

The bright shatterings of Fall are on the floor 
And there are skeletons knocking at the door
- not begging for tricks or sweets -
The ghosts are my own. They haunt relentlessly.

With the facade of holding on - 
- the reality of letting go

Their words talk, 
Their laughter echoes,
Their sadness cries -
Into my ears 
                 and out from my eyes.

Welcome Winter,

You're just in time.

To hear me say,


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