The Winter Wars

We are gone far

from winter days

that held a hint of mischief,

from our dusted roofs

and playful nights outside.

We left them,

those dark and joyful moments,

and chose instead

to stand here

in the sun.


While twilight falls,

my mind wakes from its slumber

and I myself

feel excitement prevail over me.

The first snow’s getting closer,

I can feel it,

and as much as I love warmth;

I crave the cold night’s

simple, alluring mystery.


No quarter for the timid;

the battlefield

is closer than we imagine.

Gone are prurient days

of satiated self indulgence;

now the game

of survival begins,

and I reminisce.


It is the difference

between the butcher

and the slaughterer.

Time divides in lines

like laughter

upon our faces

and we carry all of our

impact wounds,

like badges of valor.


The break of Autumn

is an armistice

before the war begins.

Apple-cheeked hostilities

and breath visible in fog.

Darkness settling in,

like covering fire

from an elevated position.


The game is played

one way

and then the other.

My breathing quickens

and my skin prickles

at the thought

of another

winter campaign.


HG – 2019


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