Friday, October 17, 2014

Bottles

The apothecary is closed
This time of year
Dust and webs
Cover the vials and potions 
Herbs have long gone stale
It's winter in this heart
And nothing grows in the cold
Maybe the return of spring will
Warm and coax that which
Hides away
It's not personal
It's just that time of year 
When frost dominates love
And warmth never stood a chance

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