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The air was a misty blanket, wind rustling through the leaves
But something there was missing
One small thing was missing
Only empty silence remained where Rosie should have been.
She arrived on the stroke of midnight, her fiery eyes ablaze
Her silver shoes shining brightly in the moonlight’s rays
Her footsteps echoed loudly as she walked the cobbled path
She waited on the wooden bench
Every night the wooden bench
Every night she waited for Winter, silent in the dark.
Rosie waited every night, from midnight until dawn
Every day losing hope, her smile growing wan
Although she tried to maintain hope, she couldn’t help but fear
The nights got longer, darker, colder
Rosie’s heart; darker, colder
From the day she’d last seen Winter, it had been a year.
Winter returned on midnight’s stroke, his icy blue eyes bright
He waited on the wooden bench until the sky was light
Winter watched for Rosie, silence hanging in the air
He waited on the wooden bench
Every night the wooden bench
Every night he waited for her, but she wasn’t there.
‘
Be Careful
Anna Timm
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