Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2018
she
is cold
we can feel
her winter breath
she chills our napes
with her gelid icy hand
we take to our warming hearths
to shelter from her frostiness
she has no charity nor any compassion
how baleful her season of bitterness
Elizabeth Squires
Written by
Elizabeth Squires
Please log in to view and add comments on poems