DECEMBER SNOW

 DECEMBER SNOW

 The Cold Scene

From the second floor, I gaze,

At December's rare, belated snow,

A blanket of white, uneven and pure,

Draping grounds and rooftops in silent allure.

The world outside, a canvas of contrasts,

Where light and shadow dance their parts.  

 The Escape

I lose myself in thoughts profound,

Of existence, time, and space unbound,

Anything to bar the door,

To memories that knock, unasked for.  

The Unsaid

Had you but whispered, explained your heart,

I would have listened, played my part.

A gentle word, a touch, a sign,

To ease the ache, to realign.

But silence was your chosen way,

No farewell kiss, no last display.

Why did you leave without a trace,

Leaving me in this empty space?  

 The Dream

In dreams, I trace your skin so fair,

With fingertips, I linger there,

Caressing cheeks, your brow, your chin,

Until you drift to sleep within.

Your smile, a beacon in the night,

Freckles like stars, a celestial sight.

I count them all, each tiny dot,

In dreams, you’re here, in life, you’re not.  

 The Dismissal

To you, perhaps, a fleeting pain,

A headache gone with morning rain,

A bee sting’s brief and passing smart,

Not worth a thought, not in your heart.  

 The Haunting

Now, you’re the ghost that haunts my days,

The muse for poems, the therapist’s gaze.

Pills and scripts to numb the ache,

Yet still, your memory won’t forsake.

I write and write, in verse and line,

Hoping to heal, to redefine.  

 The Incurable

Why must you be so real, so near,

A beating heart I cannot hear?

Your name, a whisper on my tongue,

A love that’s old, yet ever young.

No salve, no cure, no remedy,

For the void your absence left in me.