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j o u r / t r a g i c /

a winter clad
on a screen
grown cruel

i remember
the times
our television

worn weary
with work
watched us sated

and beneath
a happy growth
the stars
burn their
in the chill year

this darkness
like a rumor heart
besets a world
with woes

and stirs
the dreams
a shadow
the light

and i remember
feel the ruse

the ground wave
like loves lit fuse


Editing stage: 


winter Olympian, at least its better than a para-Olympian solitary imbued in dross drapes of underachievement

the crisp underneath slow breakers
the silence of winter
the ghastly pall of the hiss
apart like a whisper

its winter..the end of it..the ice falling apart
beneath the shoes and boots
a crush sweet sound...
while the last of winter
trickles down in the dusk
like a glitter
night rising like a thick sleep
against these trees haunted and climbing

a strange mystic time of year
the howls and spirits
stirring in the grasp
of stillness
brushed awake by the wind
hand of evocation

thank you

we are sportsmen and women
of our skills to survive

the long season

author comment

A grand write
pictures drawn in times
people not seen yet they live
is there a place where we all are seen
Not of this Earth
Can we hope
Hope is a negative word
When all you have left
Then there is nothing.
No wonder we have crime
An explosion of emotions
There stalks the base recesses of life.
Talk again soon
I have to fetch more wood
for the fire that burns
In my soul,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

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