Impatient Love

Early in the frozen season, the weather is oppressive like my father’s impatient love.

Have not seen the sun in so long, a warming blood’s moon has replace shine’s pride.

I took out a plastic red rose, all at once, I felt more entitled…

less to hide.

And, down where the icy waters of Three River’s meet,

I placated my angst…bathed in organic retreat.