Catrina Conway

an early winter morning

the car outside my house won’t leave;

the engine drones on all night,

the snow floats by so carelessly;

glistening in the light,

wild swans wake me up at dawn;

and tell me where to go,

somewhere far away from here

somewhere it doesn’t snow,

and my heart reflects the words it hears

although they are not mine,

my bones feel empty from the cold,

trees of needlewood and pine,

and the colours of the season

are so lively and so gold,

but i’m here searching for a poet

to tell me i’m not yet too old!

love letter to the moon

i look into the sky and wonder;

where are you moon?

where are you my dear friend?

will i see you soon?

there’s nothing but grey

staring back at me

like a cold unkind force

of darkened gravity,

but then you peek out

from behind some foggy mist

‘there you are!’ i smile

your cool light a gentle kiss;

and i think of all the souls

who are looking at you now

all wondering the same thing

in their lonesome little towns

creatures of the night we are

fighting the urge to sleep

because we all want something more

something we cannot keep,

i’ve wished upon the stars

too many to even count

i don’t believe i’ll ever

be old enough to doubt

that you will always be there

for my heavy, sleepy eyes

to gaze upon in wonder

at the midnight sky,

and i wish i could let you know

how i really feel

but you’re so far away from me

are you even real?

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