Cold wind

Through the masks the window
in the coincidences
closes its eyes…
blue mountains in ruins
and silenced beaches remembering
the burning trees
and the oceans’ sand art
in surrender…
the armored flesh on the brink
taking a little break
with a quotidian smile
painted on a meadow…
after crying over Eden
comes a chilling offering in an afterthought
without understanding the lessons
we taught but never learned:
the movements in monuments
between 2 minds…
the winter seduction
the lamp in the cold wind…

*

Cold wind

Anthony DiMichele

Friday Harbor, United States

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