Cold Wars

Nightly it seeped into my blood

The hidden poison in the still, pure air

Through pores that fought with sweaty pride,

Yet still it crept, insidious.

My labor strapped across bony hips,

That bruised a chilly, subtle hue,

Leaning into each slow step,

But sticky fingers laced and pulled,

 Into frozen lakes that called,

With shocking cracks and weary groans.

With each dusky, starspecked gloam,

I fluttered, burden cast into soft snow,

Light feet left not a print to show,

Windswept limbs piled deep in warmth.

Sometime into each blessed night,

Creeping, he returned with blight,

Heeding not the sacred stars,

He trod through dreams with heavy foot,

To wake with icy legs, tongue mute,

Unmoving until resolutely forced.

With one dawn left he ambushed me,

Waking alone from feverish dreams,

To feel the cold soaked through my flesh,

Come to claim the bones he wished.

With rattling voice I heard him speak,

Muttering that he would not take,

What did not belong to him,

Then I felt within my chest,

The thudding warmth that would not rest,

The fiery blood of my protest.

I met the cold again at dawn,

This time I greeted the dreary form,

I rested on the frozen shoals,

Fought not with arms but with the coals,

Of peace in heart among the cold.