Winter Poem by Gert Strydom
Winter
The winter bites this morning
with chilling fingers
and there’s ice in the wind,
that blows through every thing.
The car is hot
and I am missing you,
while I drive alone
to work in the dark morning.
The car’s lights
cuts the path open,
but every thing is a lot more icy and cold
when you are gone
The drive let me realise
that I am not made,
to go through life’s winters
without you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:32:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
