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The Winter's Chill

Hayden Minor

The wind leaves me pale and frigid 

     Oh, how I long for bones not chilled 

They tell me of many months to come of this seemingly unnatural winter 

I wonder, 

     What has suffering, such as this, fulfilled? 

My hands have become ugly and vile I have lips so dry, 

they bleed when I smile 

     Oh, how I long for summer flowers not killed 

Contributor Bio

Hayden Minor is a 20 year old student, artist from the Joliet area. By exploring several mediums such as photography, painting, and writing, he hopes to put diverse themes into simpler, understandable presentations. According to Minor, art is in its greatest form when it can be enjoyed by anyone.

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