Arctic Warmth

Arctic Warmth

Thoughts From A Windows Edge

Droplets of glistening flow, slipping, sliding then stop to cascade within a vision.
Clandestine within this winters concerto of a Utopian solace, to solidify where journeys end, within so cold and lonely abandonment, they shudder my whispers.

Orchestrated in waves of tears, meeting, caressing, ending.
Cold rustic crystallisation of a thousand thoughts melt in conjecture to touch, like the so many faceless lovers before me.

Tearing wave after wave within my solace, nipping and gnawing.
A disillusion of abandoned mass, creating a nemeses of confines within a volcanic mind, that stems from the core or isolation, and a conscience of existence.

Manifesting till erodes summers awaken, and belligerence smiles with a maturated sarcasm, culminating on lost, fleeting moments in a saturated circumference of weighted karma.

Where grinding wheels turn and windmills lose their sails

So little time where cold water flows,

© Robert Anderson 2008