ice is forming –
on the windows –
now.
i hear the whistle of the wind –
its song,
so sad!

everywhere –
in cold secluded –
silence,
every-thing – captured
within gray!

no longer do the birds
in joyful chorus –
sing happily their songs,
their words lie frozen –
broken as the surface of the sky.

i touch the glass –
to wipe the discontent away –
to see if i may find you there –
peering in –
desperation eyes –
searching –
longing!

but i find only lonely shades of winter –
placid as the frozen sea –
of your indifference!