Society Magazine

POEM: Winter Dusk

By Berniegourley @berniegourley
POEM: Winter Dusk

Stalk-stubbled field dusted white.
Four in the afternoon,
yet drifting into night.
How's dark descend so soon?
Visible breath eddies
from lips dry and cracked.
Shoulders shrugged up ready -
cold collar cataract.
Light of low sun passes
through the barren hardwoods.
Moving like molasses,
people wear all their soft goods.

This entry was posted in poem, Poetry and tagged poem, poetry, winter by B Gourley. Bookmark the permalink.

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