Frozen Captivity
The winds howling at early dawn
picking up where the wolves left off
white blankets of snow
have masked a swan
beginning to walk
yet soon to trot
bitter winter
has taken one prisoner
rapid thoughts collide
as a puzzle should
my footprints erased
have left no trace
ice cold skin
and feeling of solitude
my heart slows down in search of space
one more breath
so slow to take
for it was too late
as the wolves began to chew
By Jonathan Grant McElroy
Scrambled Ink
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