Frozen

The snow paints red upon my face,

As cold dances up and down my spine.

The frost slows my quickened pace,

The trees stand naked all in a line;

No stars to lead me, to show me through

This emptiness and eternal cold;

The moon has vanished, gone, not there to

Shine in its brilliant stream of gold;

My outreached hand is greeted by

Darkness, knitting ’round my fingers

It fits like a glove. I claw and try

To break through the dark, yet it lingers.

Suffocating, closing around me

Remaining still, like the naked tree.