the hidden things

the postcard scene,
the winter day,
the thoughts of people years away –

the winter lain
in blanket mist;
the hands we held, the lips we kissed –

the stilling time,
the frozen heart,
the golden light that breaks at dawn –

the hidden things
we keep inside,
for love that lives
when loving’s
gone

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means. View all posts by Sibelius Russell