Group W Bench Poetry - EZ

EZ

Frostbite

My sweetest memory is of your caress.
An oasis of warmth on a cold snowy plain;
A flutter of joy, above a whitecap of happiness
A fleeting exultation, where I long to remain.

But bittersweet is the memory now present
Brief warmth is gone, empty cold remains
Time crawls ahead, slowly plowing drifts of torment
Joy has faded, numbed by plodding pains

Who knows. A word not spoken, the wrong fork taken
Are we predestined or just a random roll
By the dice of fate, we dream alas to waken
Asleep too long, reality demands its toll

Such as it is; it is. What's elapsed is past
Lifes not on tape, there's no rewinding back
Small solice knowing wounds do not always last
For now, were I not shallow, I would surely crack

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