Soft Winter Wind (a poem)

You called me over the airwaves
I had nothing to reply
Golden light bathed my face
Amid soft winter wind like
Time frozen in the seasonal cycle

I heard your sweet voice call,
But I could not answer
I needed my solitude

Don’t we all need time alone
To regenerate the parts of ourselves
Crowded out by madness?

(Photo by Spurwing Agency on Unsplash)