The Embrace
by Willow DuBrovin
As I look beyond the window, my fingers yearn
To touch the snow that has last returned.
The winter’s breath has dried my cheek,
And rendered my throat too cold to speak.
Brittle and icy this winter can be,
A hidden beauty no one else can see.
The delicate flutter whites say to me,
“This winter is too pretty for you to flee.”
Moon colored silk embraces my skin,
It does no good against the glacial yin.
My foot lingers past the open door,
Prepared to be stripped of the warmth it bore.
Hypnotized by this pristine sight,
Feet numb on paths of icy white.
Time, a idea lost in the snow,
My sole thought now is flakes that glow.
Unfriendly crips seize my nerves
And eats away my flesh reserves.
Like a violin starts to wear its hair,
I start to hate this icy air.
Perhaps I was manipulated into love,
Perhaps I mistook it for a harmless dove.
This winter is as fair, as it is unforgiving
I feel my lost, relinquished living.
I try to run, but the snow grasps on
And pulls me down onto heavenly lawn.
Throat gripped by hands of frozen freeze,
Breath, a whisper amidst the breeze.
I should not have came, I should have fled,
And saved myself from this bitter dread.
Snowflakes land on my delicate lashes,
My conscience slips into the ashes.
Yet, an ember ignites, a flicker of hope,
To break this cold, unending slope.
A flame emerges on my trembling finger,
I let it sear, I let it linger.
It rises, burning, fierce and bold,
Winter flees from its relentless hold.
Leaving warmth, leaving fire,
Leaving scorch, it fails to tire.
Then understanding strikes like pain,
This fire’s path, no escape to gain.
Similar to winter’s chilling grace,
The only route leads embrace.
As I give up, my head tilts back
Resting on frost’s relentless rack.
Flames engulf, leaving marks and blisters,
Winter’s beauty amidst fiery whispers.
