Skies cloud over,

I start to ache,

ache for the lost summer,

warmth that I need to survive,

winds blow,

chill me to the core,

cut like knives of ice,

leaving its forever mark,

scars that will never heal,

blow wind blow,

I am ready,

you will not cut me this time.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

thank you Tim for the words that inspired this poem..... you are such a treasure full of titles that just have to be written.... this one is for you my friend.... hope you are well....

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