Maple tree under snow in my backyard, photo by myself

平成三十一年二月二十一日

A blanket of grey
The scent of snow in the air
Winter’s cold caress
My tears frozen to my face
I wonder why I’m crying

平成三十一年二月二十二日

Pain, past and present
Winter is not my season
Knife-sharp, the twisting
Of my body, of my mind
Warped into a silent knot

平成三十一年二月二十六日

My brush hesitates
Hovering over the page
Like a dragonfly
My words are soft and cloudy
As a midwinter’s morning

平成三十一年二月二十七日

How to speak of it
World weariness infusing
Each waking moment
No rhyme, reason, or excuse
The sleet falls unrelenting