Disclaimer: The following poem is mine. Please don’t use it without my consent!

Written in January/03

Illusion Restored

Robbed of her sheltering cloak
she’s lying there, stark naked.
And what lay hidden before –
concealed by a layer of feather-soft white –
is now revealed to the perceptive eye:
numerous cuts, scars and burns;
wounds inflicted by countless hands.
Grey, concrete plasters hide some of the cuts,
yet they only cause her to gasp for breath.

I wish it would snow again.