WHEN THE FIRST SNOWFLAKES FALL

Muted skies viewed through saddened eyes,
searching for the hope of spring in autumn’s dying days.
She lies on the couch staring through the blinds,
slats of a vision broken. No words spoken, only sighs,
a rebuke to the muted skies. Days pass a month
at a time and I am a mime for her brave front.
Winter approaches, and encroaches on our solitude;
a rude intrusion. The wind whispers her warning,
a woeful lament sent as a harbinger call. A moment
shared when the first snowflakes fall.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge – Day 23: WHEN_____

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