This Winter3 Poem by Gert Strydom

The air is overcast and grey
and the cold chills with the rain
and the end of our love cuts right through me.

The winter rain is unusual
for this time of year,
but just so is the decision
that you are finished with me.

There is fog
that folds around me this morning
and my life is just as grey
that I am goalless looking for you
without finding you
or getting direction at all.

Could independence and freedom
have such an impact on you,
is that you are prepared
to lie our love
down in a tomb?