Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Shroud

The clouds roll in
dark, and thick
and cold.
They obscure the entire world,
drown it
disappear it
until my isolation is complete.
Mountains, valleys, houses, forests –
none are spared their chill embrace.
So thick, it comes right to my door
hovering
like a hesitant visitor
or looming disaster.
The world might have ended
a half-hour ago.
And here, in the cool shadows of my own creation
I cannot help but wonder
if I am trapped
in a metaphor
for my own life.

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Published in: on July 9, 2009 at 3:08 am  Comments (2)  
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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Nice. Keep on publishing.

  2. Damn straight you’re trapped in a metaphor for your own life!


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