Annie Ning - Living For The Spring

The weathered misfit wanders frosted grounds,
His ebony eyes show tired years.
From graveyards passing with dampened mounds,
Shadows beckon, their voices sneer.
The misfit, his feet were stained blue with cold,
Bruised cheeks stony and raw.
His face, forgotten by time had grown old,
But no one noticed, no one saw.
Not a sign had years of solemn trekking left
Save soft indents, echoed sighs.
Groaning winds swoon from narrow clefts,
And deeper sighs the misfit, in reply.
The misfit lives for the springs and summers,
When silken clouds frame the sky.
His mind rests among such blissful slumber,
Where lush grass scatter seeds of rye.
His hushed voice scrapes across pebbled snow,
His damaged lungs take aching gasps.
His wintry breath comes out in gusts so slow,
Yet to the springs and summers the misfit tightly clasps

Annie Ning

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/living-for-the-spring/