no quarter found/

©2021 Michael Raven

over the rimy fells
with frost in my ears
and ice in my knees
hair white from all 
i have been

long winters come 
to blood muscle thick

i asked for succor and
was given scant shrift
with lips snarling curl
with word like whips --
all my gifts refused

trek then,
back to the snow-filled
glades in search of
lesser rage, lighter hues
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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