Thin Necessities of Winter

Standard

Teasel topped and

Winter teased to thin

Necessity the spindly

Thistle brakes the eddies

Of the spinning leaves

Abandoned at the rustling root

The dizzy fray of chase is stopped

Those leaves that once marked life

Yield to the silent sway of death

To decompose its music

Score no more

And I in winter in my way

I too do drop and throw away

All my little precipitous

Vitality in vanity

That necessitated life

In inspiration rich to

Burgeon in becoming

A round of ripe and full

Of ready innocence

In season giving out

Till time so churlish

Turns its smile

Down into a winter frown

And I too must bow

To the cold King

Who comes to call

With retinue of frosty loss

To bear

In his cold breath

And hands too frozen hard to hold

This load of winter grief.

© K J Barr

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