Dead of Winter By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
I hear the rumbling of a distant train
the steady pulse makes it's way up the mountain
through the leafless trees
and dense mist of an oncoming thought
but it does not come closer
only passes and fades to still, calm time
The large blackbirds search along the blanketed white hills
but there is little to feed upon
and I sense defeat as they pull their wings tighter
against the wind
The days are cold this high
and the nights are unforgiving
One bird leaves the limb
landing upon my window ledge
he peers through the glass and catches my eye
quickly learning that he will find no solace
here
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