by Ray Anderson

Created on: September 06, 2007

My Winter Home

The turbulent sea rose and fell
A symphony on the sullen shore
The moon came out cold and full
The funeral pyre died in the distance.

The summer came and went
Leaving me in the cold
I could feel the aching in my bones
I could feel the winter's chill.

I walked away in silence
To sit by an old oak tree
The whispers in the night
Called out to me.

The voices calling from the night
Silence echos from the breeze
I watched the branches dance
Up high in the trees.

I close my eyes and think
Of a time that seemed so long ago
A time when I was young
A time of ageless innocence.

Now I open my eyes to see
A tombstone on the ocean shore
And now I realize I am sleeping
In My Winter Home.

Learn more about this author, Ray Anderson.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.