She struggles forward – her head bent low
Buffeted by winds and blowing snow.
Deep drifts and gusts erase her path,
She vainly battles winter's wrath.
Strength is lost with every step.
Finally, there's nothing left.
Laying down her head
On a snowy bed
So soft and deep
Inviting sleep.
2019
(From the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)
© Doris Potter
I have probably seen this before but I like the format.
ReplyDeleteThanks Anvilcloud. Sometimes I want the poem's format to relate to the subject and it is quite a challenge to get the right meter and length of words to fit.
DeleteIt sounds like depression, which feels like winter and death in the spirit.
ReplyDeleteI agree messymimi. Well said!
DeleteI like the format of this sad poem. xx
ReplyDeleteThank you Flighty. xx
Delete