Winter Is Gone
by Steve Ewings, 2001
Frozen droplets in misty curtains sweep, and nosily pierce the wretched sky
Icy fangs throw shards that crack against the marrow, killing gusts tear leaves from limb
The beating stopped between a short and focused tread
Life ripped and ceased mid stride, a sun kissed morn, a fading wish
For him and her the winter is gone.
This was written around the time when a great friend and person I loved, Gwen Nettlefold suddenly passed away from a brain aneurysm. She had just completed a PhD in Philosophy which was awarded posthumously and her personality and life is always with me. Something died inside the day I heard of her passing.