Winter Blues

Annie Caldwell
The Mad River
Published in
1 min readNov 26, 2017
Source: Lauren Mackson@Flickr.com

If only I could escape
winter’s numbing touch —
fade beneath the snow
unnoticed,
like a perennial
awaiting Spring —
aching to feel the sun
or be touched again
by eager hands.
Perhaps they’ll find me
cold and stiff,
like a bulb too shallow —
winter-killed.

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Annie Caldwell
The Mad River

Lifelong learner, experimenter, writer and lover of poetry.