Kelly Zion (11/27/1994)
The wind blows a snow ghost
across the cold road
while we stay frozen in our hearts
afraid of what we don’t know.
The owl calls as darkness falls
and people lose their homes
a time will come when only the sun
will hold a cheerful glow.
As we’re shrouded in the clouds
of darkened dreams and hope
while our minds are trapped in the banks
of our own mounded snow.
Spring will come for all but us
as long as we’ve ice in our souls
our winter hell will never melt
until we sprout in God and grow.
Comments about this poem (Winter Hell by Kelly Zion )
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