in the bleak midsummer
winter still resides
cold descends my soul
fever chills insides
irony of iron grey
within solar rays
shivering summer
dirty darkened days
sunrise sickens me
sun golden light drains
to dishwater blonde
muddied by the rains
I ran to the dunes
perchance to find Zen
but my lake turned away
I am cold again
frigid similes
frozen to the bone
funerary tomb
in lichen color stone
time scrubbed the name
who in tomb does dwell
has all memory
been erased as well?
my heart aches for her
it seems such a loss
All that's still living
is grave-crusted moss
I don't part well with
those beloved and passed
eternal rest prayed yet
my heart holds them fast
is that why my lake
calls then denies me
Am I refusing them
peaceful eternity?
I don't mean to keep
them bound up to me
How to release them
is a mystery
we're told to let go
I think that's fallacy
how can I release
those with hold on me?
p'raps it goes deeper
this cold in my bone
to dank memory
of all my alone
pain like hand smashed
by door slammed on me
peering in a home
with no vacancy
Theirs the backs turned
by family within
windows shuttered tight
so I couldn't see in
now I see her smile
lake's arms open wide
but that doesn't melt my
permafrost inside
is it black all over?
does dark dwell in me?
does this tunnel end?
is there light to see?
I like grey wet days
I do not mind mist
But I'd like to feel
my face by sun-kissed
bleak is for winter
black for a short day
I want the lemon
yellow sun today
this poem isn't resolved
fresh out of great amen
not sure where it's going
it's just at the end
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