Chilled To The Marrow

The news a barrage

of Arctic blasts delivered

like icy fingers probing

my structural weaknesses.

Creaking through my dreams

where wanderlust

leads me through new dimensions,

constellations hovering just outside

the global campfire

where we huddle.

Listen, their dainty voices

splinter like ice

through the deep dark 

without ever penetrating

our eyes.  When I was young,

we looked to the stars

for salvation, aspiring to

bold acquisition,

infinitives split.

Our only hope

to export this zeal 

conquer all dissidents,

erase difference

a blank blacktop of boxes

Starbucks, McDonalds, Walmarts.

Everything branded, possessed.

We are poking through the scraggly

roadside weeds, wondering

where are the forests

as we add another log to the

blaze before us, paltry

attempts to warm

these frozen hearts encased

in old languages.  I scatter

seeds for the birds

fluttering through the single pine.

Risking frostbite to reach 

my sisters who sing

perched on perilous life. 

Inspired by:  Dainty, News, Wanderlust and Barrage.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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