New fallen trees no longer surprise me.
Nor do I look to find their snowy coats.
What ever god there is lied to me.
There is no rower for this boat
which drifts from daylight to danger
as if by cruel, familiar rote.
A bark as useless as a piece of mulch
covered over seasonally in disgust.
And the sticker ball stars,
prickly things,
a universe of enemies
on guard day and night in distrust.
The snowball moon catapults towards earth,
eager to live free
but weaponry no longer surprises us.
© 2023 | K.Hartless
Wow, a sense of doom comes to me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, me too, these days. I’m trying to not feel that way. Winter often has me in the doldrums.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The gray sky of winter makes me feel sad, blah. That doesn’t happen here much at all. I think things are gonna get worse before they get better according to the Bible.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Definitely captured that January blues feeling well. Powerful verses, K! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Tom. 💜No snow here minus a cake batter morning and all those sticker balls scattered around like land mines.
LikeLiked by 1 person