Winter’s Bride

I am weary
And winter stands at my door
With a heavy strike of its cane
Challenge each new dawn,
Crushing the paper of my dreams
And stealing into my memories.
Should I succumb, unbolt the lock?
Should I wither and wane,
Bent double against its chill?
For I wear its colours now,
Show its creases
As I brave each frozen moment
Abandoned, unseen
And trapped in decline.

Should I open the door and let winter in?

Copyright ©RMC October 2018

Photo by Cristian Newman on Unsplash

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