Dance of Winters Hand
the leaves turn as they fall
twisting on the breeze in a
dance of winters hand on my world
hurry along the path
each footfall scattering the leaves with a
dry rasping sound
winter cold the air harshly grasps at me
as landscape spread in brilliant white snowfall
makes a trial of this inevitable trek in morning light
my books and papers heavy if only in a worrying mind
scrawled there the first words of poetic heart
ill defined the weight of the matter at hand
joyful poems of a true beauty lover
and my desire for her affections
this itself is the rub
winters hand
cannot write a warm thought
now all these years and poems later
my eyes open
my heart hearing
this new winters day fades into view
and still i struggle to cross the snowbound landscape
with the weight of a thousand words
with the self deception of a young heart believing
the promise of warm loves where hope springs eternal
the leaves turn
dance of winters hand on my world
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