My Human Disguise.
I am old and my blood won’t thaw.
I am the end. My lips are mold.
As if I execute some law,
I imprison all with the cold,
The icy and the bitter winds,
Punish spring’s, fall’s, and summer’s sins.
My eyes, nose and cheeks rot and cake.
A few green leaves cling to me still —
My young branches refuse to die.
It’s time to summon the first flake —
My sole star only time can kill —
And then to open up the sky.
When all is buried I will sleep
A tearless world that will not weep.
