…weave a weary song

The cold wind hammers sharp splinters of ice into my very soul
tearing away at the cobwebs that have gathered 
in the shadows of my heart 
in place of the flowers of love and light 
the shadows that hid from me the truth and the reality 
in a darkness that made it impossible to see 
that you were already gone
that I had been lying in the unmarked grave 
of our once bright life 
unaware that the roses had withered in my arms 
and now waves of winter are weaving a weary song 
and the morning pales in its ghostly grasp
the last of the leaves wantonly embracing in the swirling wind 
I am alone barefoot in the snow walking on thin ice 
that in my heart somehow reminds me of you 
and in the moment I am still dreaming of the fire of your touch 
as I am falling through the broken surface
still drowning in your oceans
© Ann Bagnall