Poetry of Issue #8        Page 87

I talk a good sunshine and condemn you for winter

I talk a good sunshine and condemn you for winter
which you own, in your owning
I can’t deny that all the pretty petals freeze
after summer never was
after all

But sometimes winter comes to white sands in isolation
waiting by waters that never freeze
but simply hush
all the frozen skies to silence
me
as I talk of sunshine in some foreign places
you
as you shiver behind winters’ icy mask