My Winter Doth Always Return

Ah, the winter returns
as it does every year
without fail

Like cold, icy hands
slowly crawling up your back
’till they reach your neck
and then,
the grip

It’s dry
on this side of the equator
and I’m cold
even when the sun shines
No rain and no warmth

A covenant unwillingly made
with a season of death
and a season of life
there’s no escaping this time

Memories stir,
coming out of hibernation
softly floating,
like little sunbeams through the dust of a forgotten age

Instead of remaining dormant,
the feelings of loneliness revisit
their former host,
as if asking for an invitation
to enter again the house they for so long occupied

Only I have the key
and it is far from here
waiting for the weather
to be just right

As cold on the outside
as I am in
My breath catches shape
as I breathe into the cold night air
and see it reflect in the orange lights around me
The stillness of a Winter night
takes me away and speaks to me softly
and there’s nothing I can do

The Winter grips more than my skin
it cuts to my soul
and I see further than I have before
but it confuses me so
I long to fly elsewhere
but have no wings to afford me that journey

So I walk through the dust of deliberation
and calculate the remainder of the season
as time haunts me and

I desire hibernation
but that, in itself, is already an unnatural quest
So I endure
I simply endure
the frigid fingers
wrapped around my arms
and await the sun of Summer
to come and melt them away

So time proceeds
without count or collection
and the one thing I always learn
is that my Winter doth always return.

© MH


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