Winter Shadorma

Cast aside

These infamous plumes

This sly tongue

These windows

Grey as a priest’s cosmic fire

We’ve fought long enough.


A battle

Of will and instinct

A template

A tyrant

An omen that vitiates

Its bundled tenets



Rape the scenery

Fixed and white

Cold and meek

Winter begets bereavement

The whole world, a grave.


On a random unrelated note it is my FIL’s 70th birthday so we have a number of things planned for today so I will be away. I am not sure how it will go yet seeing as Sam and I are sick.

21 responses to “Winter Shadorma

  1. I’m so sorry you’re sick 😦

    BUT — “Grey as a priest’s cosmic fire” — brilliant. So well done.

    And — relieved it finally went live at the correct time. Yikes.

  2. I hope you feel better.
    I loved this poem. I’m a great fan of dark poetry, so I always enjoy this sort of thing.
    Thanks as always for your support at

  3. Sickness is probably to be expected, considering. I am prone to colds when I am emotionally stressed. I hope it’s fleeting for you and Sam.

  4. “rape the scenery” and those last two lines….wow….so very dark in their punch of emotion. Or, perhaps, it would be more apt to say that the words shine like stars against the darkness you have fashioned out of them.

  5. Wow what a group of shadorma … I especially enjoyed the second! I do so hope by now you’re feeling better … take care of yourselves dear friends!

  6. Winter does seem like a cemetery at times… especially with the news headlines.

    Wishing your in-law a very happy day even if you have to delay the celebration. Get well to both Sam and you!

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