Waiting For Winter

I remember looking up
when the lock shattered,
watching the tree dropping its leaves,
and I felt disappointment,
and as naked as its branches.
That tree had kept our secrets,
and I think I may have thought that
somehow we would have been hidden now,
from prying eyes and a looming winter.
But the winds had come, and he had gone,
and I found myself in the open, lonely and alone,
breaking bits of memories into my hands
and walking the abandoned road,
until I sat in the spot where
we paid our toll and had been granted passage,
and I waited for winter to come again.

© Nicole Lyons 2017

10 thoughts on “Waiting For Winter

  1. Here we are, running into this winter again. And I don’t know what to do. It’s different this time, but somehow the same. We are dancing around ourselves, our feelings, so much deeper. He knows I love him, but I can’t mention it, not again, never again. I’m at a loss. But this poem, describes me, how I feel. I am the tree. Naked, nothing to hide, waiting for the worst.


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