“Winter either bites with its teeth or lashes with its tail.”
– Proverb
“Looking up, she showed him quite a young face, but one whose bloom and promise were all swept away, as if the haggard winter should unnaturally kill the spring.”
-Charles Dickens
Winter Ritual
In the bowery
The patrol vans
Crawl
Ever so slowly
At first light
Looking
Left then right
Scouring each
Alley
Never knowing
Where the next one
Will be found
Easily identified
The blue color
Of lips
The rigid form
The cold
Of each
Who escaped
Their pain
Freezing quietly
Into the night
Zipped in for eternity
Body bags
Not a fashion statement
Potter’s field
Not a destination
3000 miles away
I saw my father’s eyes
Closed
Bisous,
Léa
You’ve penned this so beautifully Lea, even from the loss of your loved one whose memory haunts you. May you find peace and comfort in writing.
Thank you. Writing continues to be a great source for peace and understanding.
This poem makes me curious about you and the things that you and your loved ones have been through. Thank you for your honesty, its intruiging.
You are kind. My journey has not been the smoothest. Yet, it does make me who I am and I have come to believe that is okay. If you have questions, you have my email.
I do look forward to your posts.
Léa
Lea,
I appreciate the invitation to email you, I may do that. I too look forward to your posts and learning more about your journey.
Blessings,
Terah
🙂
This is very raw and beautifully written
Christine
Thank you! You are kind. 🙂
This. is. a subtle balm on an old wound. wow… thank you.
Thank you so much. It was kind of you to stop by. I hope you will visit again and find something you enjoy!
Léa
I most definitely will. 🙂
And I shall keep an eye on you! I like what I have read so far. 🙂