Wind froze your undercarriage,
the soft white skin of exposed belly
where armour cannot reach.
Low blow,
coming from an ally;
‘Et tu, Brute’
will be your swan song,
your dying dirge.
-
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Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
“Low blow” certainly suits this lovely picture. How did the snow get underneath like that? You’ve captured the deep pain of betrayal well in your poem. Nice work, Melody!
Blessings ~ Wendy
It’s odd, isn’t it? Sometimes real life is stranger than fiction… or something like that! 🙂
Absolutely!
O, Melody, it’s always a winner to quote Shakespeare! From a man who has had his underbelly frozen a time or two, always wear thermal underwear! lololol! Great poem, as usual! And photos. 🙂 Eric
Thanks Eric! Gotta love Shakespeare…
Keep being amazed as you find these shots and then write to them! Thanks for another great read!
Thanks Debbie – I’ll keep my eyes peeled!!