It’s like wind..
Sitting on a cloud in the winter
Trumpets in the heavens calling..
Menthols inhaled lightly.
Mint and Polish pastries..
Steam wafting coyly.
Coal in the air, red stockings..
Time, desperately heaving
Like spring our hope is calling!
But winter lags ..
Dreams are slow growing
In the cold of winter’s groaning.
Fainting feathered flakes fall freely from the face
Of the universe.
Tears frozen dropping..
Life disturbed, reacting..
No purpose in the rotating of our worlds!