Winter Is The Time To Die by Guy Dimitri Jagodinski Poem by Guy Dimitri Jagodinski

I wake this frigid winter day,
A sudden chill upon my skin.
The floorboards cold, a subtle way
To tell me where the long nights begin.

I watch the frost etch on the pane,
Like cracks within a fractured glass.
The ghosts of vanished seasons wane,
As the long road to the end must pass.

I pull my robe, approach the light,
And stare upon the sleeping trees.
Their weary limbs succumb to ice,
A fractured silence on the breeze.

Winter is the time to die, I think,
For life is just a fleeting sight.
Like frozen tears upon the brink,
That shatter in the fading light