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| January Wind |
1/25/2010
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From nothing came once a something.
Everything a rocked stone.
The candle stirred, a leaf drifted.
The sand rose from the ground into the dank air.
Clawing for an exit but still trapped.
Now awake but forgotten however long.
Until the tomorrow that never comes.
It's the Sunday sun that never warms.
It's the Monday moon that never shines.
It's the January wind that never fails.
To shudder the night away, cold shoulders do.
And in the end, there will be no end.
Because that's just how it always goes.
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