Bloom

by amy

Winter IS coming. To harden the ice barricading my every feeling. Feeling. is it even there anymore? So many years, so many winters, trapped beneath the walls of ice shrouding my every emotion. Springs so cold they melt not a thing, summers infertile, leaving the barren earth to wilt beneath the ocean breeze. The flowers no longer flourish, the flowers.. that held so much beauty and perfection. They’ve all withered now, they barely begin to sprout a bloom before they’re stomped out by the cold and darkness. I remember the beautiful spring. I remember blossoming into a flower, so beautiful. I too have withered away. Pollen swept away and decaying. Even the bees barely a reflection of the beauty and nourishment they once possessed. I recall summers, heat beautiful and frightening to behold, dancing in rain so warm it felt like a teardrop from the heavens, the warm mud splattering my feet, awaiting a , a miracle in the skies. Now the cold dry earth engulfs us, sucking us in. The beauty is gone, the warmth frozen, in summers of hail and cold. I brace myself for what will be, shivering, wondering, knowing, my spring came too soon, summers long forgotten beneath these blankets of snow.