Bittersweet wind, crisp
stinging my face
numb to the watery tears
freezing on my rosy cheek.
A step on cracked ice
with a pother of snow
around my bodice.
I could stand and fall
or run to see if I
make it to the other side.
The clouting claws at
my ears,
it's macabre groaning
pitting my nerves.
What do you do
when you know running
delays the fall,
and no matter what you do,
there is no escape from
the eventual plunge into
the freezing slumber of solitude.
