Icy Emotions Buzz Poem by Sonny Rainshine

We argue at the cottage gate
like the cluster of conifers beside us
pointing all winter to the sky, to the sun,
as if in condemnation:
You! Shiver me timbers!

And as last season’s needles
and ripening cones dropp from
the snow-burdened boughs,
so our discontents
and failed expectations loosen,
plummet, then disperse
or sink into the ground
perhaps to re-emerge
another place, in warmer months.

Icy emotions buzz around us
like snow flurries: white, light,
but made of steel, each starpoint
a razor edge.

We agree to part
and I am troubled
by the patterns your footprints
etch into the snow-covered path
and the noise of receding footsteps
and the sound the brown needles
dropping, dropping.
Gone.