Snow glistens like satin skeins illuminated by sun-gods
icicles glint rainbows on willow and walnut branches
crusted rodent tracks gash through glazed drifts
with my own trudges to the hewn stone oasis
breaking silence like shattered mirrors.
Wind slices across a vale of mounds
cryptic dream and drama altars,
an offering to Here-and-Now
of touches and tears
melding into…
YOUth
R.I.P.
Gossamers
close as breath
hold twined memories:
your skin, your irises, your
crests of laughter echoing in arias,
as once I held you; now beneath my feet.
A union of May and December, forever-encased
sacramental vows spoken in heart’s inner sanctums
now only ego and ennui bouquets resting on silent beds,
but in lights splintered by ice a snow grouse’s song rises.