Solstice

When winter comes, 
memory knits old dreams 
into cold blankets, 
the season mumbles 
through frozen smiles
and teeth chatter 
in their roots—breath
never frozen, floats away 
like smoke on the chill wind.

Spring brought us hope, a 
resurrection of hearts waiting 
for the first green to rise and 
spread across a flood of tears.

By Summer we were fearless 
as the blood ripened in our 
veins, moving fiercely, coursing 
our way boldly through endless 
days, counting our nights as if 
they were stars...

By Autumn, though, each falling 
leaf seemed to whisper a reckoning 
as it fell 

And now, as Winter begins to close 
its icy fist, and the skin tightens 
against each knuckle, some fingers 
will turn sallow white, yet each 
breath drawn through cold and pain
is a moment gained in this journey 
toward light.