Hermits

Hermits

Cascading shards lacerate the flesh

Frost filled winds prick the tender eyelids

Fingers turn blue in the frigid air

Nature has cooled its desire for Mankind

Inside four bricked walls we seek our quiet refuge

Comforted by the warmth of a flaming fire

Consoled by a glass of warm red wine

Flanked by a mystified family and a weary four-legged friend

We have become as hermits

Frightened by the consequences of our own deeds

Incapable of managing an obtuse reality

Lingering in the graces of forgetfulness

Thank you,
Joseph Pede