February 21, 2014
The birds arrived alongside
A dusting of yellow pollen
So thick we could’ve written
Our names in it on the surface.
White lilies bloomed in our front garden—
Their curved lips shaded our windows
From the sun’s deepening glow
And saluted our contentment.
Growing grasses then
Hid the path
Between our homes
And the granite steps that lead to them.
A choir of crickets and swallows mourned
Our leaf-drowned lilies and
Lambs loud bleated from hilly bourn
As the sinking wind died.
We watched these days disappear
And felt the air grow colder
As we held onto memories of
The sun’s warmth on our closed eyes.
Naked branches painted white the stars
While shadows held their breath;
Scared to whisper our love’s name
Lost in season long ago.
We lay now with the snow,
Pure, white, and silent,
And watch the world transform
Into something dark, something cold,