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Frozen Kisses Warmth has no home in a house built from ice – Love cannot express itself in any degree. His lips are as frozen as mine When we share our feelings by the windowsill. Two trees watch our drama unfold behind glass, See us as skeletons of themselves – They stand bare and lifeless against the wind. We pause to gaze out the window – Drawn to our reflections upon barren bark, Fully aware that our love is out of season. ©2002,Patricia Carragon |
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Patricia Carragon’s poetry can be found on-line and in journals: Poetz.com, Clockwise Cat, Flutter, Riverfront and more. Rogue Scholars Press produced her book, Journey to the Center of My Mind. She curates the Brownstone Poets and is the editor of the Brownstone Poets Anthology. She helps to host SOS ABC NO RIO. |