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I step outside The air, crisp as a cortland apple It takes over my lungs like the gas chambers in Germany The cold comes over me like a wave The smells of last nights fire still hangs in the air The sounds of birds screeching as there young plummet to their death I still feel the cold touch of my uncle’s hand as he slips into darkness I still hear the last words that he spoke, ringing in my ears The words, I love you, I love you, I love you I still see the grim dew on the old worn down window pain I step back inside and let the warmth overtakes me. Continue reading
Posted Nov 29, 2017 at The Fenn Voice
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Nov 15, 2017