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 grey!

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!