It was coming <br /> <br />the cold front <br />and the complex weather <br /> <br />we returned <br />and the difficult loves were waiting <br /> <br />the long conversations <br />with pain in the final sentences <br /> <br />winter <br />gathering her parcel for the victory <br /> <br />stones, feathers, bottles <br />brimming with light <br /> <br />the troops <br />breaking in through the syllables <br /> <br />the empty cups <br />sitting before us in the snow <br /> <br />this <br />like all the others <br /> <br />a lullaby <br /> <br />a few grains of salt at the centre<br /><br />David Brooks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cold-front-2/
