When winter was slumbering and sleeting?
Who is winter covering on the waking side of dawning?
I never owned an instrument; this house was silent
When I fell asleep last summer--last evening, rather,
Far beyond this slushy keening.
Who is winter fooling, this side of the seasons?
Who came to the house last night to open just one window,
Who left a cold like silver notes up and down the foyer?
Who sang the starlight ashes into this tray of morning?
Why has my voice, gone yesterday, returned
Along an old coil of phone line,
Still calling me to warn me?
Who is winter fooling this side of the seasons?
Sharing this morning with Poets United and, possibly, with The Sunday Muse. The photo inspiration is definitely from The Muse; however, there is, may be, could possibly lead to a short story rather than a poem...there's usually a winter's ghost story hovering around my head and this warm, too-warm season has produced a lack of lurking weather, ergo, not yet a good story. But this fits in so well with an idea that occurred to me yesterday...so...so may I should cut back on the coffee before l start drafting and just get it done. :) Have a lovely week!