catch the world
in a purge seine
ruminate
turn it over
knead
and shape
ponder
-- write
an answer
There is no place that's safe and warm
no shelter from the freezing storm
I am the wind that chills your bones
instead of bread, I hand you stones.
There is no comfort -- darkness creeps
into your mind -- no pity -- sweeps
away weak answers to the Why:
it's all deception. Look -- and cry.