Aftermath

Padding on the fallen flakes
The snowdrift road that it must take
With one long glance. One long to last.
Those eyes point to poetic past.
Hoar frost coated fur slips by
Into the darkened hole it spied.

Where from whence now it returns
It licks the scars from self-made burns.
Broken beams of hopeful dreams
Break through the black and shrouded seams.
Its breathing slows. It stops its gait.
Resigned, at last, to hibernate.

© Brandewulf  ♾️

17 comments

  1. Winter break is not necessarily bad. It’s often a time of contemplation, reflexion, reconciliation and self-discovery. As bleak as the world may seem at times, I’m sure the optimist in us will at one point start to make out a light at the end of the long tunnel. There are things that are worth fighting for.

    Beautifully expressed.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. As a wise man once said, “the sun will come out tomorrow, you can bet your bottom dollar.”

    Or, wait, that might have been an orphan girl who inherited a fortune.

    Regardless, finding a way to slip “hoar frost” into any poem is a work of art and you, sir, are an artist. 👏👏👏

    Liked by 1 person

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