My Two Seasons

Glacial braids paralyze the silver trim Bearing that frost coming seemingly From the North Star. Ceremonial clouds unwind the light Of the very frigid sun. The gelid wind creeps up its spine. The lifeless forest highlands its somberness. The dusky frozen autumn Like a decrescent moon in the eclipse Suffers the ignominy of being left behind. In the faintly confused history, The nature can wait the winter to come Dressed in her refulgent white For restoring her sovereignty Like a queen with a blue heart and icy tears. Poem by Marieta Maglas moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon moon