Splinters of Winter.

Gnarled Tree on the Frozen Ottawa River (photo credit: Howard Sandler)


Splinters of Winter.


Through stained glass etched
in grays and grief
the fingers of the tree
claw madly at the sky,
it's limbs spreadeagled wide
tear an opening for
the long denied sun,
leafless it has squatted
on that far cliff,
as winter gripped
my wheezing lungs,
its buds closed tighter then
a child's eyes at what's abominable.
bitter winds howling
scouring it bare to bark
I thought it might possibly mark
my passing from this frigid life,
a grotesque twisted tree
gnarled and bent into my tombstone,
but now the dawn has been freed, my lungs pardoned from death
and I will dare to venture,
back out of the prison of my mind,
to breath the fresh salt air
and share the glorious light
long denied from November I'll March.

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