Cold

White smoke curling against ashen skies
dirty snow ground into dark asphalt
a running man
in leaden sweats
heaves his way across a steel bridge

Color
has drained from this icy world
with dawn bringing bad news
even the holy ground
is too frozen to bury the dead

The living heap their grief
like fuel
on some cold fire
and shed steaming tears
that disappear into dust

I run away
to return only
when night has blanketed the world
in forgiving darkness
the yellow light of windows
giving the illusion of heat

Silouettes of comfort
talking
against the back drop of artificial light
there is nothing we can do
to heal hearts cracked wide by loss
except to hold their name in warmth

I would gather those I love
close to me
more for peace than protection
and touch them with hope
that there will always be tomorrow

LB
12/13/08