In The Early Winter (Roundelay) Poem by Gert Strydom
In The Early Winter (Roundelay)
A covering darkness of blanket blackness
with loneliness and no feelings to express
while rain sieves down for days without end;
in this winter it's as if my life is spent.
The nights are chilly with an icy wind
searching for something that it cannot find,
as if the presence of death still is recent;
in this winter it's as if my life is spent.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
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4/24/2024 9:21:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
