Shadows creep around the buildings,
deep darkness hides in the corners.
Light scatters itself over the hills,
birds roosting, appear like mourners.
Night finally descends upon us,
candles showing through closed shutters.
Cold air comes in from the east,
freezing water to hang from gutters.
All things are barren in deep winter,
stark is the night in this cold landscape.
Come to me when you feel it’s cold bite,
I will warm you within this wool cape.
I know not who you are my lady,
we had separate paths from the start.
Willing the night to be warm and tender,
may it be aeon’s before we depart.
Winter is long, our hair shades of white,
this life only starting at summers end.
In winter not all things are barren,
we bloomed together, my winter friend.
©2010 Trevor Litchfield
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