Freshly fallen snow lies in blankets before me,
warmed but only slightly by the sun that clings
to my jacket in glimmering waves.
The mixture of breath and cigarette smoke coils
around my eyes like fire from a dragons tongue.
I breathe for you.
The morning sun is rising in this, our winter wonderland,
and you, still and napping beside me, are starting to
The previous night's activities flow through
my mind, like the frozen brook over yonder flows
when Spring rolls around, finally. A balmy breath of
warmth for this frozen land.
My hands, furry, spiky objects of white and blue,
spread before me beneath the honey-lemon sunlight,
that soaks them through and through.
On one hand, a ring, a testament of your eternal
love for me, and the other, a scar, a testament of
my eternal damnation within the nightmare of my mind.
The golden orb fades from sight as the thick, black, twist
of branches overtakes the sky from my point of view.
I look upward to see three cardinals nesting,
silent and happy in their humble abode between two angles
of the black licorice tree.
I toss my cigarette into the snow.
Somewhere in the distance I hear your voice calling me back,
back to happiness and home where we sometimes pretend,
albeit poorly, that we are perfectly fine and happy,
just like the cherry red cardinals in the tree.
I turn about face and crunch through the glittering
snow back to our home. I see you standing there,
warmly smiling with your morning cup of coffee in hand,
waiting for me. I smile back. Perhaps this time, I
have finally gotten it right.