Dicembre, un’anno

Well off and up into the cold,
Snowy white falls in my mind,
And safe inside a cobbled cabin, with
What I always leave behind, behind. Away
From fear of what I cannot find, here
I stay still in soaked silence, insulated
Against wailing, whistling winds outside, just
To be alone, just
To hide.

© SXT 2022

--

--

I write stuff when something begs to me to write. The goal is to write ten-thousand things before I die. I tend to be morbid, reflective and personal.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Stephen XT

I write stuff when something begs to me to write. The goal is to write ten-thousand things before I die. I tend to be morbid, reflective and personal.