Personal stuff

Waiting

 
 
Come before the winter next
    my love,
before the frost traps 
fern fronds on the pane
before the world flies south 
to keep alive
before the winds grow wild
around this fragile hope
and freeze its heart
 
for well you know
there are no shelters
for a prayer caught late
upon the winter of a soul
 
amidst the turning I will wait
before the winter next 
    my love

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