Cold

as a December morning

was her stare into the distance

a witness of too many trials to

testify

she rather cry waterless tears in the wee

hours as the whistle

of the wind pierces her solitude

hadn't thought of him

since the springtime of some

years before

now his mental presence weighs heavily,

leaving tracks in her mind

like footprints on soft soil

seems her soul seasoned with lackluster

bits and pieces of promises

unkept

heart filled with remnants of dreams

developed in a dark room

and exposed to light too fast

exposed too fast-

still first memory of he

a first

illuminating innocence lost

almost...

light in a space less lit

hidden from the present

by time...

and a silent wish to negate

all memories

to remain...simply

cold

as a December morning