Author: Carl Miller
Poetry
I Will Not Lament The Cold
I will not lament the cold
It's embrace, biting and mighty
A long drawn sigh from the Giant's mouth
Begins a tale so loved and so old
Her mind was innocent, whimsical and young
When the story took life with the old Giant's tongue
A little stone house, it's path guarded with snow
With a little creek frozen over, not an ebb, nor a floe
Yet a heart of heavy iron did reside in his chest
With darkened, old memories He did long to forget
Those tired, warm eyes cried cold, frozen tears
When that biting, mighty frost came through
That to his only beloved son laid rest