Winter’s Chill – Christine Ray

Winter is starting

To settle into my bones

Making itself at home

The cold steals silent,

Stealthy under doorways and seeps

Through the small cracks in my armor

Looking for firm purchase

Conspiring to steal my warmth

Chilling my nose, my toes

My fingertips

 

The flat gray December skies

Speak of future snow

Will it be a flurry

Or a blizzard, I wonder?

The days grow short

The nights grow long

And as sleep is often as evasive

As a child playing hide and seek with me

In a many roomed Victorian house

Full of small hidey-holes

This darkness can feel endless

Unrelenting

 

I worry that winter’s frost

Is starting to form

Over the delicate tissue

Of my heart

Making my blood slow and sluggish

That it will crystalize on my soul

Encasing me, trapping me

Under a clear sheet of ice

Thick, hard, muffling my voice

 

I fight to resist this

Encroaching winter

This mournful twilight

But I am isolated

In this icy landscape

Full of skeletal trees

Frozen puddles surrounded

By hard mud that crunches

Under my frozen feet

I feel transparent

Thin somehow

Have I become a ghost?

I seek a lantern in the darkness

Or a bright red cardinal

To break up this

Bleak, white tundra

19 thoughts on “Winter’s Chill – Christine Ray

  1. You capture the bleak days and “skeletal trees” well… as i stare out my window at those silhouette’s against the gray sky… blah. Good morning and good riddance 2016!

    Like

  2. “I worry that winter’s frost
    Is starting to form
    Over the delicate tissue
    Of my heart”

    “I feel transparent
    Thin somehow
    Have I become a ghost?”

    Beautiful and beautiful! The metaphor is clear and speaks to me very personally. I felt an abundance of chilly, under-door drafts while reading this. Thank you.

    Liked by 4 people

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