A page turned with the wind

A page turned with the wind
Paper from the book rustled then settled
Morning stole through the window
Over the fury of night’s contemplation
No glorious sunshine
Danced and dripped gold over everything
To soften every edge and hue
Instead a cold unforgiving February day
Stared while the sky struck at the frozen ground
Bending barren tree branches in an icy coat
The white glares at me
I feel the snow bore into every cell
It blinds
Or do I blind myself?
Who do I blame when things get so hard
When they get this hard?
Steeled against the coming minutes and hours
Wiping sleep from my eyes
To peer cautiously at the resting page
What did my hand write
During my sleep
Look for nothing
Look for me
I am here



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