Rik George writes

Remembrance Twenty-One

I do not welcome the winter cold. 

It plagues my bones with painful joints.

That hurt so much that even saints 

Curse the winter, or so I’m told.

Add grief to this brew of misery 

And I would weep through all my hours

For her and my bones. I have done with tears. 

Reality has come for me.

The dark comes down to rest my soul.

My joints cry out for some relief 

My heart cries out to ease my grief.

Around me lighter shadows pool

Against the dying day. Tomorrow

Will be warmer pundits say. 

I’ll struggle through this winter day

And set the night aside for sorrow.