Cold Breeze

I felt a draft sweep cross’ my legs

as the zephyr nipped my skin

fighting off the guilt that begs

the clock chiming, 2 am

*

wrapped up in a dream I didn’t know

that I was in

the frigid air, my breath doth show

my will is growing thin

*

the winter chill consumes me

patchwork mazes mark my flesh

predictions of a banshee

with a warning to express

*

seek the fields of dandi

for lions, with no whiskers to be found

a yellow labeled brandy

bullet holes scarring the ground

*

whispers of becoming

crawl like spiders down the hall

I keep a list of my shortcomings

hidden in Babushka dolls

*

the sun peeks through my window

another day to call my own

I go where hope and winds blow

collecting the seeds that I have sewn

Originally published at https://vocal.media.

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Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Written by Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Telling stories my heart needs to tell

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