By Krystie Beale
When winds of change bring winter’s cold,
With a morbid breath of air,
the wake it leaves, the stench of death,
tells a tale of life, unfair.
And sands of time slip slowly through
the cracks in streets of old.
While fleeting moments escape our thoughts
leaving behind secrets, untold.
As each season passes by,
once the cold, long nights are through,
the world once hidden in snow and ice
reveals a breath of life, anew.
Revived, refreshed with each new day,
as if to never die,
we live with hope, we start again,
as time marches slowly by.
It changes us and the world we know
into something bright and gay,
as summer moves in and the warm sun rises,
light drives the darkness further away.
Krystie Beale is originally from Albany, NY and has been writing for 18 years. She has had three poems published in the last year and is currently working on writing an autobiography. Writing has always been her way of processing the world around her and poetry is something she has always loved to read.