Softly, Softly

9 3 0
                                        

The world ends in a whisper, the first hints of frost.

Sorrow lays like blankets of snow

muting everything except one piercing cry.

Everyone remembers that September was not so long ago,

but no one can recall

the thrill of their skin brushed by the autumn wind or

what coffee felt like

burning their tongue first thing in the morning as they watched

the earth flip on the lights.

They cannot recall the feelings, but they know it happened;

the way

we no longer remember

the heart-racing anticipation of being knee-high and leaping into a pile

of leaves,

but we have the memories and snapshots to prove

that once we joined the Wild Things where they were.

Winter, when it comes,

softly,

ever so softly,

mutes the world;

nothing else exists until it releases its grip.

The world around us

goes soft and still.

It mutes the truth,

and the harsh backdrop.

We do not go quietly, because nothing around us

is gentle or soft.

Dancing with GhostsWhere stories live. Discover now