The Season of Scars

November 3, 2011
By E.C.BaldwinIV GOLD, Centennial, Colorado
E.C.BaldwinIV GOLD, Centennial, Colorado
15 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Once a child, so hurting and defeated, grasped my hand and gravely pleaded,
for he wished and begged that I remain so near him -- never to go away.
I, of heavy heart, repeated,"Brother, do not feel so truly cheated;
take my hand; remember times of laughter, for this pain lasts only today...

Shaking, I released him; I released my cheer and love, this: the des'late way--

Which season of souls refined the grass of Denver;
calling for my sweet September?
For, apparent are the flaws of that acre and soil from 'neath the cloud of fervor.
Mute: the winds of bitter cold; a silent ember: I embrace my steep November --
Stooping for the brittle age of that preserver, comes tomorrow: I, a keen observer.

Haunted, I am left my mind alone, and wander...

Winter has an echo mute; a coldened cry, a muffled route,
Whispered for the hushed December, In this season I remember:
quiet thoughts, and deadened root, sighing to the April: mute.

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