thunder calls
as the sleet falls
a torrent of
stinging crystals
slicing razors
forming mercurial
icy shells on
the dismal skyline

i hear sirens
singing warnings
in the stillness
between showers

i press my face
to the foggy door
lost in the spectacle
blurry sleet
crashing around me
when i pull back
a frozen facade
of foolish pining
glares at me
distorting the
inclement fury
around the
shimmering face of
the diamond phantom
stuck to the glass

thunder calls
is it the weather
or the hoarfrost
slowly suffocating
my heartbeat

the room is
cluttered with the
half melted
figures caught
in the midst
of heartfelt
declarations left
frozen by the
apathetic touch
of winter’s dismay