Despite Frost

Kohl edges, monochrome
disguises a failure to thrive.

Constricted roots, frost desecrated
damage, still revivable upon trust.

Repairing is a delicate act,
a whisper passed through affirmations,

through the touch of hands,
planted deep in moist soil,

fingers enmeshed in a fragile earth,
skin witnessing the crumble of what prevails.

Revival is feasible only with a heart
daring itself to open to a foreseeable future,

where mere surviving is simply
the first step.