Leafless trees twist beneath
lachrymose skies, nakedness
stark defiance to wind bequeathed
by Winter's bleak excess.
I too, stripped, emotions laid bare,
joyless as the empty landscape,
eye distracted by corvids there
on flayed branches draped
in frosted tears, outside
waiting for snow to fill their space,
I on the inside,
watching Death steal over your face.
©Doreen Hopwood, May 2010
