What will I become?

A blind and hungry mongrel

Foraging for scraps

Clinging like a leech

To my memories of you

The darkness deepens 

Tall wood stacks totter

Precarious self esteem

Everything collapses

Under fine drizzle

Another damp Friday night

Waiting for summer 

Underneath wolf falls

In the depth of the plunge pool

Bones worn smooth with time

Conflict averted

Yet another battle lost

I have surrendered 

The older I get

The clearer I realise

How far off I am

Sometimes I forget

The fresh green smells of springtime 

And I feel afraid

I am difficult

That nagging itch you can’t reach

I am the question 

Where do I belong?

Am I of this crowd a-part?

No one can hear me

As the sun peeps out

Painting the afternoon red

This quiet hour 

A pale birdless sky

Dark tree fingers creeping in

Another winter 

Placid permafrost

Resting under long night air

So still so silent 

Every morning new

Brings me hope of seeing you

Again one day soon

Ice crystal outlines

Every single shard of grass

And smashed puddle panes

My twisted words sting

Rubbing salt into the wound

Keep my big mouth shut

Wandering snow flakes

Gently rising and falling

I follow them home 

Inside optic fibre

Radio waves, copper wire

This is our home now

If I disappeared 

Who would be first to miss me?

And what would they do?

Under dark damp dirt

Moles burrow deeper downward

To escape this cold

I keep stumbling

From one mistake to the next

Devouring me 

The depths of winter

Frost creeps across the window

Is everything dead?

Winter storms raging 

Harsh rain lashes the windows

The fire, dry and warm

Rain falls in thick sheets

We are soaked through to the skin

Pearly whites chatter