Absolute Zero

The wind whistles the snow over icy peaks.

Rocks, unyielding and cold are glazed with frost

And the person is just a speck on the mountain.

His parka is mottled with misty frost,

His mittens worn and thin.

He clambers a frozen, rocky ridge.

There is a nook in the mountain,

Where many mountain dwellers have slept.

So the young man takes up residence there.

He sits with his measly fire.

Just one speck of warmth on the cold mountainside,

And listens to the wild of outside.

The night draws thinner and colder,

His breath is thicker and clearer.

And he whistles a tune on his frozen lips.

The wind picks up and the air is so thick,

You could cut it with a knife.

It's so unbearably cold.

Says the man to himself.

He lays down to sleep,

His cheek on the cold ice floor,

And dreams of a land forgotten.

Absolute zero flies in the wind.

She breathes on his fire,

Till it's just cold steaks.

She takes the man by his hand.

And leads him up the mountain.

To the land,

Where the forgotten mountain dwellers dwell.

Reviews

[PoeticSorcery]

good poem, keep working on your art :)