A TROUBADOUR’S tales…

A column by SARA ROWAN, consisting of delightfully crafted poems she spun from threads of imagination throughout the month of December.

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A snowflake falls
and each prong
each fleck of snow
carved together out of eight
touches me in the sweetest way
until I cannot hold back the tears.
For that snowflake
was as cold
as I never thought you could have been.

ONCE UPON A SNOWTIME

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Mirror, who do you see?
Carved in silver and luxury.
Mirror, mirror, do not despair,
It’s snowflake season and snow’s in the air
Love is fickle, like the ice
Comes and goes, never twice
Kisses coldly, retreats to warmth
And coffee shops are December’s loath.

COFFEE DATE

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Hum to me softly
Like you did when we were little
Kiss me like you did
When our love wasn’t fickle.

SWEET

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Burn me with your tongue
And soothe me with ice
Let me beg for mercy
While you name your price

PRICE TAG

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I want to kill him
with an icicle
so it will melt
and he will know
how I burned like he does now.

COLD

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Written by Sara Rowan.