Winter  (for John Nightingale)

In my garden of regret
seeds of forgotten sorrow
cast with damp ashes
silence already muted spirits

No need to gather
harvest that again
since weeds & crops
now yellowed & strawed

Glazed with frost
contentment & burdens
death & resurrection
indistinguishable

 

 

 

Picture and words by TERRENCE SYKES

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