Winter

...for April Once again, winter has returned-- Forever gripping my heart, my soul, my mind in eternal steel claws which I alone can release - if I want to - if I want to be free again, to be able to love again, live again, give again, to know the warmth of a woman's love again... and, to be hurt again, just when the future held the greatest promise, seemed the brightest... Fear and distrust cloud the skies, hide the sun, steal the warmth; bringing the bitter coldness of winter - but, at least winter does not change much; it is either cold, or, colder... There is no warmth to look forward to, only to be cheated; no sun to run under, only to be hidden by somber clouds-- no meadows to watch die...

At least in winter there is no change to bewilder, to wonder at, to catch one off guard - in winter, all is constant: Cold, white, silent, and; grim. This at least I know, this I understand - for love, compassion, friendship; all confuse me, for I know not what to expect of them - they bring joy, but then bitter sorrow and sadness which is even more cruel than that of winter, because the once-warm memories haunt the my empty soul... In winter, there is only coldness, silence; loneliness following the same, like compared to like, forever... That is why I now seek refuge in winter's cold, moaning winds, for I am like them-- solitary and roaming over the silent wastes forever.

July 26, 1973

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