i stand at the fence and grip its upper rail
my knuckles turning white
stare across at the figure
i approaching me
shivering in fear

and then i stand before me
i can feel my chill breath on my face
i place a cold hand on mine
smile mockingly
numbness creeping in

so we stand and time will tell if
my cold enters me or i receive my warmth

or neither

who is this one
myself who i face across
this fearful fence
my face such a blur
blurring mass
blurring fast

coming clearer
who am i

will i remain so when i know

i am afraid yet still i stand
trapped by my own cold wintry hand

December 20, 1989


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