Winter’s Last Whimper

I stand on this ridge

seeing until Appalachian boulders

are swallowed by mist.

Bagpipes, sounds from some movie,

play in my memory, a reminder

that loneliness has a sound.

I zip my jacket, tighten my hood.

Even winter dies


Author: Darlene Franklin-Campbell

I am a poet, novelist and artist living in the Appalachian Foothills. I believe we are great spiritual beings on a journey through this physical realm. We are timeless entities stepped into time.

3 thoughts on “Winter’s Last Whimper”

  1. So true. SO beautiful. Everything that is born will eventually die. But it is through the same loneliness can we see that within us, our real self, which does not know birth nor death.


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