Like the silent snow
my thoughts seek yours.
From its frozen shell
my spirit mourns its mate.

Passion’s fire burns dim and cold,
and love’s first song stands mute
before my lonely citadel.

Seeking to possess,
I drive you from me.
Longing to give,
I am bound by frustration and despair.

A lonely touching
and silent parting.
Oh, that spirit could couple as
easily as flesh!




1. I feel your touch in everything I do.

I see your face within my mind.

Although you’ve gone away you live within my memory.

Your loving hands that held my dreams so tenderly.

Your smile that warmed my winter world

and lifted up my heart so I could sing my song

and tell the world I worshipped you.

2. But now you’ve gone and sadness like a winter wind

is singing in my song of you.

And bringing tears that sting my eyes

reminding me of loving you.

Come back to me and fill my waiting arms with love.

I wait beside our dreams of yesterday.

I want to hold you close to me.

And hear you breathe your love to me

and still this winter wind!


There is another kind of winter.  It is the winter of aging.

We cannot forget the old ones, the fragility of life and the winter that will know no spring.


When time has parted old lovers; when one has journeyed beyond the reaching of the other, a new winter arrives.  For some it lasts a long time, for others, the winter is short.  But within that season, the old one becomes fragile.  The one who gave life its richest meaning has gone home.  Those who are closest to these precious souls are given the privilege of sharing a special time.  We are there when loneliness is a burden, when bodies become unreliable and our elders know their usefulness and their place in the world is waning.


C 2011, Donna Swanson, from SPLINTERS OF LIGHT (May be found on Kindle and



About dswan2

Poet, author, columnist, lyricist, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife of 50 years. Born and raised in America's Heartland
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  1. marousia says:

    Very moving – you capture the melancholy humour of winter so very well

  2. Very nice group of poems, Donna. A subject I often study. I was in Florida many years ago, and each evening I’d watch as literally hundreds of elderly residents walked determinedly around the neighborhood we were in. The thought kept coming to me that they were marching into the sunset of their life.
    Great post!

  3. Summer says:

    moving one on top.

    emotionally beautiful one on second one, well done.

  4. Lovely thoughtful trio. Thank you.

    Anna :o]

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