The Silver Kiss of Winter
with homage to Phil Elie and Verlaine
In a brown, forlorn land lost to frost
and to the travels of the Sun and what they cost,
The wind drifted through leafless trees,
through a shadowed light where love was lost.
A shivering woman, searching with soft, sad eyes,
snips and clips blood berries and holly leaves.
Her hands and heart are pricked by thorns
and by a promise that cut sharp and still deceives.
Her breath floats like a cloud in air true blue and chill,
and as she disappears into the Garden of Neglect,
Her sighs bend each branch with their chance to steal
or in surrender the Silver Kiss of Winter to collect.