deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Arrival of Spring
He looked at me with eyes as gray as winter.
He spoke in tones that were as bitter, as cold months frozen over.
From snow and ice that's deep December, pentrated my heart's chambers.
Throughout the entire winter, and it's darkening chill that still binds me in embers.
"Do you know what happens?"
He asked me, chills running up and down my spine.
From the coldness that followed him often.
"When what happens?" I asked him.
The bitter frost froze over my arms and legs.
Longing for the arrival of spring.
"To the snow, when it melts?" he finally said the words must've hurt to get out from his cold frozen mouth.
Which was thick as ice and fridged as the water that lay beneath it's layers.
Shivering and shaking, I sat there waiting.
For the answer to the riddle to come, like the sun from behind the seasons.
Mapping stars and constellations, moon's phases and fleeting reasons.
"It becomes spring" I answered and watched slowly as he melted away at the final arrival, of spring.
He spoke in tones that were as bitter, as cold months frozen over.
From snow and ice that's deep December, pentrated my heart's chambers.
Throughout the entire winter, and it's darkening chill that still binds me in embers.
"Do you know what happens?"
He asked me, chills running up and down my spine.
From the coldness that followed him often.
"When what happens?" I asked him.
The bitter frost froze over my arms and legs.
Longing for the arrival of spring.
"To the snow, when it melts?" he finally said the words must've hurt to get out from his cold frozen mouth.
Which was thick as ice and fridged as the water that lay beneath it's layers.
Shivering and shaking, I sat there waiting.
For the answer to the riddle to come, like the sun from behind the seasons.
Mapping stars and constellations, moon's phases and fleeting reasons.
"It becomes spring" I answered and watched slowly as he melted away at the final arrival, of spring.
Published 8th Jan 2014
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