Winter Bones - Poem by manda dutson
A bone crushing blanket of white
Wraps its icy tentacles round in a monochromatic death trap.
Filling secret passage ways, underground tunnels
A patchwork of maps.
Where roads once crept.
It entered my room through locked glass doors.
Covering my bed like a rogue, mongrel sheep
Disguised by cheap romance and fireplaces.
Obtrusive pop music.
I squint through my prickly fire of winter bones
Screaming for it to Stop...
Yet deafened by the silence it secretes.
Bathed in its flames, melted only by sleep.
If sleep ever arrives.
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