#197-Guests

Frozen, head down, burdened.

Looking in the mirror I’m confused.

There are cobwebs within me,

Leftover relics from the summer,

Surviving autumn’s rains.

They’re a part of me now,

Helping me reach deep,

Seeing closed doors,

I readily ignored.

Perhaps now I understand,

The thin fragility,

Of these frozen strands.

They’re no different than me,

Or distant dreams.