Memory of the Breaking

O, wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?
~Percy Bysshe Shelley

 

Memory of the Breaking

 

Bare, leafless trees

Stand stark against the January sky.

 

The remnants of our time

Ache like old, forgotten fractures

Chilled in the bitter wind.

 

The memory of the breaking

Playing over and over again.

 

The darkest corner of grief

Is winter.

 

C. Sharshel

1/17/2013