The Winter House

The Winter House

Midnight in the winter house,
high atop the hill;
calling out for something else,
lying silent... still

The snow, it starts to flurry,
setting thin upon the ground;
the lights blink slow, and hurry,
round such needled limbs, they're wound

Flickering, they settle,
as flakes born briefly melt;
walls weary, test their mettle,
against the hands they're dealt

A year numb, blunt... a club bereft,
with little time to spade;
Heartbeats torn, with not long left,
as diamonds dissuade

Spinning in a darkness, flawed,
so bright, so right... so true;
as seasons cycle, underscored
... a lifetime missing you

with secrets buried in the snow,
a mind can drift for days;
to places I will never know,
to faces long erased

Faded in a dying light,
an hourglass's grace;
need some time to make things right,
to set them back in place

Mistakes made in a summer haze,
left buried neath burnt leaves;
lost amidst a winter maze,
a labyrinth of thieves

that play upon the truths we lost,
with lies that blaze like coal;
wanting more, the seasons cost,
false reasons take their toll

with spring locked down 'neath furloughed snow,
an autumn of remorse;
cut off from the town below
... cut off from the source

Stranded, landed, somewhere else,
high atop a hill;
Midnight at the winter house,
lying silent... still