Whispers from you haunt the
places and spaces we shared.
Winter winds whisper words
once spoken from your lips.
Wishing you to stand beside
me and say my name kindly.
Winter winds whisper a name
once yours; then, then Kadota.
Whispers of you linger as the
snow falls from my heart.
Soft still snow-covered streets
sit still waiting for paw prints.
Soft still snow-covered night
stays still and dark until light.
Soft still snow-covered trees
stand still watching paw prints.
Standing in the snow,
so alone with no one.
Tears of anger fall fast
freezing into shapes.
Standing in the forest,
swearing about snow
Fears fade with the tears,
as you look at the shapes.
Cluttered and bundled in the snow,
so still, as the effects of defeat set in.
Take from you only yesterday,
yet it’s been more than a year.
Sweet faces appear behind your eyes
to haunt your day and night dreams.
Cracks start to appear within you,
as your heart begins to break apart.
The person of all those years ended sharply,
now replaced by something very different.
Alone in the snow, you slowly rise to feel
the weight of the wild wind altering you.
Different now, you walk from the woods
back to that home now yours for good.
Their cries won’t bring your heart back
for it has turned
to something colder than snow –
Light upon the mountain peaks,
a winter mist shrouds the land.
Snow carpet covers our hearts,
snowflakes of our love fall softly.
You reach for me with mitten joy,
I say silly lovey things in my head.
You look at me I hold you close,
a winter mist encases us in a hug.
Lost in the echoes
of barren land without snow,
wishing to see you.
In the snow.
The seat is bare, except for you and a few tidy possessions.
You’ve been down this road before; broken and broke.
There’s nothing like poverty to make you feel like you’ve made the wrong choices. Yet, you are liberated now; free on this bench in the snow.
You think, “How beautiful the snow is as it falls. If I was more familiar with words I would articulate this scene with more purpose and beauty, but I cannot convey this. This is a photograph or a painting…”
Still, in the snow, you don’t notice the gun against your head until the jolt ends the falling snow for you.
Your last moments: broke and broken; beautiful and sad; thinking of the falling snow.
What beauty in your death. Death on the bench in the snow full of a fading glow. Until the light turns to darkness. Then you get the chance to do it all differently.
I don’t dream of summer
I only dream of our winter
Wild wind of winter moving
Wildly moving into our bones
You laugh at the trees and snow
I laugh at the playful snow on skin
In this eccentric winter we laugh on
Forgetting spring will come too soon
Winter holds you frozen within her frosty grasp,
for she’s waited so long for jealous Autumn to go.
Your heart beats slow in her cold wild arms,
yet she knows Autumn’s fate will be her own.
The snow falls on to your hair and face to warm you,
as Winter dances her wild cold dance around you.
You love the way the snow makes your body feel,
for your heart is ice and your veins beat glacial water.
Sleep takes you into Winter’s slender arms again,
yet when you wake the sun shines down on you.
In the ice, you lay as your heart starts to melt;
then as you look left and then right you see.
You slept within the pines last night to your dismay,
only to find you did sleep between the Snowdrops.
The Snowdrops remind your heart that love is well,
as the shoots rise up from the ice to find the sun.
blood drips from the knife
such beauty winter graces
she stands in the sea of pines
a silent face within the snow
dripping red on to white
a merlot or is it a shiraz?
he will never know love’s taste
stabbed to death in the snow