Author Information
"Winterkill"
by Jeph Johnson
slopes I ride, bloodless white,
pale in fallen snow...
pitch black ice, no hope in sight,
frozen... undisclosed...
the shivers down my spine take flight,
a haunting ghost possesses
the sacred soul we sometimes shared.
poise became the poison
that destroyed our affair.
disaster fell faster
from the frozen hill
and haste was my first taste
of her wicked winterkill
dreams became a vapor
of distorted emptiness
that was written plain on paper
but distorted in the press...
too entangled to escape,
too important to impress
looking through a lens
of blurry tearful stares,
positioning her poison
in a flurry of despair...
I wait with wistful confidence
through the storm until
blindness welcomes me
to her wicked winterkill
