The Name in the Wind

Each gasping breath a cloud of sorrow spawns,

Winter spreads when fall sheds yellow and red.

A spot of rouge an attempt to colour,

Bare branches and barren spirits duller.

The weight of promise bends a mind quiet,

Silent suffering and aching in mid-air;

Thus softly they rustle in dreams only,

Driven like ghosts brittle and empty.

But wintry gust tears hues of hope,

Memories awake in the arms of a lover warm.

Smiles and laughter wishing not to remember,

A face sound asleep on a shoulder.

In voiceless voice Spring repeats,

Future somewhere radiance believes.

But when least expected breaks a name,

And winter beats louder than any can tame.