Member Poem

Can anything be colder than a day

When clouds of winter make the sun’s embrace

Become a shadow of its former grace

And summer’s verdure gives in to decay;

When snow like burial garments shrouds the hay,

Bleak nature trudges with a mournful pace;

The winter’s gusts make sharp cuts on the face

With blades concealed, as though designed to flay?

Yet, when love’s ardent flame burns out in vain,

The silence answers all unselfish pleas,

The tired wings can’t find their resting nest,

Not even death can ease the inner pain.

Thus, winter’s cold feels like a summer’s breeze

Compared to what remains inside my chest.