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| Courtesy of Morgue File Photo © 2015 |
Where Broken Dreams Go
When November rains,
midnight is calling.
Ravaged by wind, bare
maples still standing.
December descends with soft
snow falling
The migrant geese come in
for a landing.
Hard winter looms with an indignant
stare,
Dark clouds taunt as the
anger releases.
Cruel lies thrash my skin,
pierce the bitter air.
Soul shatters into a
thousand pieces.
When twilight beckons with
pink shades seeping,
My frantic pulse ebbs with
the fading light.
Cold and tired, I have no
trouble sleeping.
Time passes unhindered in
dead of night.
Bruised hearts heal beneath
January snow…
Still I wonder, where do
broken dreams go?
Colleen Keller Breuning ©
2015
December 16, 2015
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