Gnarly, these withered limbs,
this vessel more rigidity than flow,
Winter upon me – a permanent clouding
Sunnier days passed –
oh how vivid the imagination
when blue skies met green grass,
no hindrances
Old dreams hover, tethered to fences –
defences to camouflage vulnerability,
offences to keep my paths cleared
Find balance in isolation –
an old tree, past her prime
Would cut loose this precarious hold
on all things fantastical, but
fear the act a harbinger
So, I bide my days
in this frigid limbo,
and hold on.
(Originally appeared January, 2019. Image my own)