once a winter, things seem bleak:
beneath a full moon, we all seek
a warmth the world does not provide,
connection 'cross a chasm wide.
the cold of winter does suppress
our warmth, our light, our hopes, unless
we make ourselves remember what
we otherwise would have forgot…
it is important to recall,
but when this cold surrounds us all
it's hard to see beneath the snow
that buries everything we know.
with all that matters out of sight,
bathed in this deceptive light,
what hope have we to recollect
that which brings a warm affect?

sinking
into a fog of chill.
so begins unthinking
descent, downwards until
even stars aren't twinkling…

night has fallen, shade
covers as lights fade.
allow
yourself to be swayed
into sleeping, weighed
down. how
the mind has decayed,
the world has betrayed,
and now

moonlight
lies on all with a weight
heavy as it is bright.
we living desecrate
the calm and frozen night:

footprints weave a thread,
imprints and shadows of life
muddying the snow.

shadows
of fleeting passengers
fracture winter's repose.
they are the challengers
to stasis. i suppose

spring will come, this frozen and barren wasteland
thawing, giving way to the birth of new life.
every year this cycle returns, and so why
can't i believe that?

i fear
this may be my last moon,
its weight too much this year.
i've not got long, and soon
i am sure to break



it will be gentle and quiet
when it happens. to me,
this matters, somehow,
as if after the fact i will hold any preference as to
the manner of my breaking.

the cold months are suffocating.
that blanket of snow is cold
and offers no protection.
what seems soft is brittle
and what seems smooth is jagged.

who would want to venture out,
to be standing exposed to the elements and freezing as
i am? isolated,
that's what we all are:
huddled indoors, separated by the expanse
of frozen sea.

i could drown in that sea.
let myself be pulled under
by the icy stillness
of the gulf between us.

i could drown in the shadows
of night. the world thrown in shadow
and every light snuffed out.
even yours.

i could drown on moonlight,
a fascimile of day's warmth
that offers a fulfillment
it will never grant.

i could drown.



i could,
and it would not be hard.
i tell myself it should
be difficult, scarred
by troubles i've withstood…

once a winter things seem bleak
beneath a full moon.