Organized by Collection
A Wish of TransitionCrystalline melancholy has me in
More Like This
its frozen embrace.
A somber sculpture
lying in front of me, in waves of white.
Flecks of translucent drops
dot my face, my shoulders, my golden tresses.
Bitter winds of despondency provoke a sting
to attack my face, inflamed and angry already though.
This wool coat, it makes me woeful and weary.
To be boarded up inside the dull surroundings
that never change,
because of these sorrowful conditions on the outside of these walls.
I miss the sun, that beautiful sun,
placed against a blue sky with wispy clouds.
And trees with young, bright green buds.
I miss the little stalks of yellow grass babes
poking out of the decaying leaves and
the tulips that weave their way through the
feathering shrubs of my yard.
I yearn so desperately for the cool breeze against
my face, the early morning thundershowers,
the sweet smell of renewed life.
The dew between my feet on my morning walks, the lightning shows
on evenings, the way the sun highlights his eyes-
I miss it al