Winter Poem "For Taressa"
A tiny patch of Springtime lingers
at the tips of Winter's frozen fingers
and in there somewhere, it holds a Flower
unlikely to ever be devoured
Defying the laws of Misery's cycle
an Aura dancing warm and vital
There is no Sunshine to be felt
but instead she makes this for herself-
through vibrant beauty, persona and smile
that could be intercepted from a mile
for inspiration refills to stand-
like a candle in gardens of white wasteland
The flame that she holds assures fairness again
by simulating the Springtime in cold Michigan
-Scott Hixson
A tiny patch of Springtime lingers
at the tips of Winter's frozen fingers
and in there somewhere, it holds a Flower
unlikely to ever be devoured
Defying the laws of Misery's cycle
an Aura dancing warm and vital
There is no Sunshine to be felt
but instead she makes this for herself-
through vibrant beauty, persona and smile
that could be intercepted from a mile
for inspiration refills to stand-
like a candle in gardens of white wasteland
The flame that she holds assures fairness again
by simulating the Springtime in cold Michigan
-Scott Hixson
