Winter Sunrise

And all the ones I love are far from me
My fire is pale and cold
And my hands die slowly
By degrees.

There is only me and my breath
In this freeze
We both are white
Both face death in the spirit
In the blood.

And all of his kind words
Empty into air
A cup drained dry
Of brimming loss, despair,

And what keeps me here
Amid this pain 
Of dying, freezing days
All white and thin, is

Duty and 
To do the best I can:
Once round the track
Backpacking
All the weight of it ...

Exhaustion
Is the breaking thing -
In time the band will snap -
Overstretched
Overreached

And the hand will empty
Palm curved-in
In parley 
To hold the sun.
Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem