Winter Flower

Protean water condensates in the Winter Forest,
Cumulatively
Weighing on air
Until it breaks.

Falling to the earth,
To seed the flowers
That do find their roots.

While mumblings
of Good and Evil,
Love and hate,
Unfelt,
Linger in the thoughts of Troglodytes.

The gasp sounds
Of a Sunflower in the Winter Forest.

Letting go,
Becoming yellow in a glow,
Open to the music of quiet.

The Flower gulps a last breath and withers alone in the wind.

And the Troglodytes…

Meandering accessories’
Fabian spirits
Of unfit or the due.


-Ben

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Photography by eberhard grossgasteiger