The sun sets across the frozen stillness that once moved with the gold of life. Skeletons rattle around the shore, their shadows dancing in the wind.
There is beauty here, in the cold grave of summer.
Though it requires stillness of breath and is far more fleeting than most take care to notice.
I wish I could describe the dance of promise in the cotton-candy coloured sky above me, the warmth of the sun reaching, grasping, losing it's purchase on my skin as I turn toward it.
Winter...
The threat of one word makes my skin raw and chafes my soul that shivers. My feet have no purchase on the ground, weighed down and holding me in place.
My weakness holds me still until the merciless grasp of the world wraps around me. But still, I miss the beauty.
YOU ARE READING
Gallimaufry
RandomRandom writings. Poems, short stories from story prompts, artistic deconstruction of thoughts from the day. Not all content is mature. But some of the writing prompts to contain violence.
