Quadrille 93

The hobnail feet of Winter
mash us into slush

as if to press iced wine
from our broken skins

a crush on spirits
of summer love

tasted, stripped
just off the vine

sleet’s sharp rhythm
in robes of immaculate white

on our graves

Quadrille for dVerse

28 thoughts on “Quadrille 93

  1. ‘The hobnail feet of Winter’ is just how it feels! My fingers and toes are frozen and the skin on my hands is broken. I also love the lines:
    ‘as if to press iced wine
    from our broken skins’.
    You’ve (hob)nailed it!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, that was very much what I was aming for. Joyous in its own expression of season too, unconcerned with us, if not pure enjoyment of the outcome.


  2. Late to the reading…apologies! How can I get so busy? Didn’t even get posted for Tuesday or Thursday! But — glad I got to read this. You’ve described the different machinations of the winter season so well here. Somehow, Winter mashing us into slush and crushing our spirits of summer love should be negative and dire….but this makes me smile. For me, it’s like Winter is personified into a young kid who is taking complete joi de vivre, splashing in puddles! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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