Voices on the Wind Voices on Waiting
Waiting Winterís Sting by m.e.jackson Is it so obvious love broke my heart? Does sadness seep from eyes where tears once fell? The mirrored image never lies; it ripples through damp lashes and failing sight. Time has passed without a backward glance or kindness for forgotten days. Aching bones join aching hearts left behind like colored eggs in faded Easter grass. Dreams disappear while sunny days wither away like summer fruit on autumn vines. Left to view the world through smoking leaves, I wait for winterís sting.