numb of Winters past

.
.
for years suspended

.
in the crevice of between…

.
regret or forget…
.
.
.
speaking or silence…

.
numb silhouette safe between

.
love and protection.
.
.
.
shadows disappear

.
in the white of fallen snow,

.
each Spring forgives the
.
.
.
impatient crocus.
.
.

.
.
Time erases shadows and

.
Love resolves the wounds.
.
.
.

Monday Haiku….the beckoning call

.
.
.

the beckoning call
.
.
.
.
Winter’s icy voice,
.
.
an apathetic hiss through
.
.
gangways and alleys,
.
.
.
.
the callous slicing
.
.
across streets and tender skin.
.
.
there’s no reprieve in
.
.
.
.
this frigid metropolis,
.
.
stripped naked when ice winds sneak,
.
.
under window sills…
.
.
.
.
through mortar and psyche…
.
.
stirring the blackened mold of
.
.
toxic memories.
.
.
.
.
it’s the helplessness
.
.
against this relentless howl…
.
.
the beckoning call
.
.
.
.
of the white season…
.
.
the rerun of fatal fears..
.
.
of hibernation…
.
.
.
.
i dream of the womb,
.
.
in amniotic innocence
.
.
pregnant with Hope.
.
.
.
.
i believe in Hope,
.
.
I believe in Redemption
.
.
and in Renewal.
.
.
.
.
to erase my eyes
.
.
of each cruelty i’ve seen,
.
.
.

and sleep… until Spring.
.
.
.

Monday Haiku: the Winter bell tolls

the Winter bell tolls
.
.
.
the first morning frost,

an indiscriminate shroud

of hibernation.

.
.

white season of fears…

of my foulest memories,

weigh heavy today

.
.

as unforgiving

winds strip trees of their shelter.

red and yellow leaves…

.
.
Autumn’s last heartbeats,

become litter along curbs

and i want to… sleep.

.
.

Sleep…the last refuge

and escape for the weary,
.

i just want to sleep…
.
.

.
.
.

in feather and cuts

The clouds are breaking climbing weightless through the storm.
There is no world worth another glance, her flight of new regrets
an exhalted reach for that slice of sun.

It’s not heaven she remembers but warmth across her naked skin
a soft breeze surrender, blood red serenity only the cutter craves
hoping any moment might be her last.

Pale androgynous waif she sits alone shrouded in feather and cuts
shades drawn dark, a desperate heart cloaked in its own protection
the littered mattress her valiant refuge.

Paired sparrows announce the new day at her empty window feeder,
she hears only his abrupt departure. It’s not heaven she remembers
but his fervent lips across her naked skin.

Written March 2013