In the snow where rings of promise
Fall from fingers frail
Words of winters bleak admonish;
Ripping through our sails

In the leaves of ashes weeping
Tears of golden dreams
As we lie, abashed and sleeping
Daring not to scream

With our words on pages blurring
Faded from the flares
Of the light of candles luring
Days to deadened stares

Cast upon a ring forgotten
Neath the leaves of loss
Once a dream as soft as cotton
Sullied under moss

Where the fingers, ever searching
Dirt and old debris
Left as little more than lurching
Bent as any tree

Watching with a pain appalling
And a tired tongue
Where again a ring is falling
With a song we never should have sung

© A. P. Christopher 2018

Image Credits: “Oak tree in the snow” by Diana Dabinett

Read more at constant Variable

One Comment Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.