Free Verse Poem by Teresa Klepac
How can it be in the season of joy you feel as if your world has spun into a shivering winter storm? While silver bells chime the wind of worry rings a minor chord, a dissonant flurry like icy snowflakes on glass. Good cheer wished with frosty sharpness. Winter dances on the eave brings a spritely chill where sharp icicles cling. No fire to warm or goodwill to fill the beggar’s cup or the spirit miser’s bowl. Bleakness turns the landscape blue. The billows of sorrow weave a storm of blustery winter that lances through and through.
Teresa H. Klepac, a resident of Columbia, Mo., whose writing journey began with enchanting flash fiction tales in fourth grade. Her talent has flourished, earning her publication in literary magazines such as Still Point Art Quarterly, Tigershark, Blood and Bourbon, and Pure Slush.
