Monday, November 29, 2010


Cold the wind
in the cracks of life
fingers freezing to the keys
so deep
so deep the
sad deep
sink but colding it stays

Quiet the night
into which no one responds
to a lonely call
dreaming me there
Never intended alone
empty spot for you
keening in the darkness

Stiff the wind
it is still me
sending icy lines
into your blood
ache of the cold, ache of the lonley
but I can change nothing
nothing changes
ties cannot be created
which were never there

A trailor sits alone in the desert
the one inside would die if he could
the cold
is not only winter
but every wrong
every nightmare
every broken heart


Blogger the walking man said...

Thank you for understanding.

12/1/10, 2:07 AM  
Blogger goatman said...

This puts a more chill into me than existed from my present insertion into winter here. Snowy cold blowing white and careless of my meager warmth.

I pull together for warm and hope for the spring to be.

1/10/11, 2:09 PM  
Blogger Echo said...

walking man, I can't get to your blog anymore. :(

3/15/11, 12:29 AM  

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