360*tree

take my hand and climb with me…

three hundred and six degrees: ‘the drifts…’

Winter ~ Tori Amos

three hundred and six

muscles stiffen

the iron necklace

pulling tight

~

heart quickens

I know these signs

( too well )

~

the body speaking

wisdom trumps logic

( too late )

~

here comes:

the plunge

rollicking roller-coaster

of nauseous

pain

~

fade

to an aching

oblivious

nothing

~

as a blanket of mist

swallows the mountain

whole

*

Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown…

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This entry was posted on August 2, 2013 by in Winter and tagged , , , , , , , .

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