Winter Magick

A Year of Sonnets — 029/365

Photo by Tony Ross on Unsplash

Inhale. The frost will pack your chest;
your light will dim. The very best
is lost to rot and atrophy.
Take shallow breaths, let’s wait and see
if fire falls, our bodies thaw,
if we can crawl from winter’s maw
and find a shelter to endure
the wrath of nature, cruel and pure.
Or will we fall? Be claimed by ice?
Some winter witches’ fey device?
Our spirits trapped in brittle bone,
to wander here, lost and alone.

The mountain rises, quiet snow
envelopes us — nowhere to go.