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Description
1.
We were walking.
Hands stuck in out pockets against the cold.
I thought you’d kiss me then.
But you only paused
and said that you were in love with the snow.

So

I strung my heart with lace of ice
and tied it up with ribbons, bows.

It was as delicate as snowflake
as soft as wind.

I should’ve guessed that you’d break it.

You didn’t mean for it to melt,
you said.
I understand.
I understand.

Do you understand, then,
why I stay up late at night still
and string ice-sickle treasures
for you to someday hold?

2.
Winter’s robbed me of life
it’s cooled the passions and quieted the chattering mouths,
it’s put a close to all the doors and turned off all the stereos
it silenced the lips of lovers.
     And I
who once was flaming, fiery
who once could reach to the stars and speak to those stars, and, what’s more, who could understand,
am now mute and painful and cold.
     Eyes locked by ice.
Fingers cold as ice.
My breath, my speech, is naught but ice.

And you
reminded me of Summers’ memory.
You, like the Spring had inspired the dozing roots to birth, to burst, to bloom.
And in what catching flame of petals did we two stand?
And under what stars did we two dream?
     But they were all dreams,
weren’t they?
     They were dreams of ice
that warmth I knew in you.
     The flowers, the stars, the warmth in your fingertips
was nothing but the pale paths of cracks in ice.

Stand!  Stand with me beneath this winter.
And wonder
at what dreams lie asleep us beneath this snowy ground.
What lives lie here, what loves, what folly.
Wonder with me
perhaps our hands could touch then.
Perhaps we might remember
those dreams we have forgot.
     Come, come with me tonight
and stand beneath the skeleton of that old cherry tree
and watch the pallid snow fill our world
and wonder
what dreams lie asleep beneath this?
What dreams have we?  What life, what love, what folly.
What dreams still lie asleep beneath this shroud of snow
     never to break from winters sleep
     never again to bloom, to live, nor have chance to die.

Description
1.
We were walking.
Hands stuck in out pockets against the cold.
I thought you’d kiss me then.
But you only paused
and said that you were in love with the snow.

So

I strung my heart with lace of ice
and tied it up with ribbons, bows.

It was as delicate as snowflake
as soft as wind.

I should’ve guessed that you’d break it.

You didn’t mean for it to melt,
you said.
I understand.
I understand.

Do you understand, then,
why I stay up late at night still
and string ice-sickle treasures
for you to someday hold?

2.
Winter’s robbed me of life
it’s cooled the passions and quieted the chattering mouths,
it’s put a close to all the doors and turned off all the stereos
it silenced the lips of lovers.
     And I
who once was flaming, fiery
who once could reach to the stars and speak to those stars, and, what’s more, who could understand,
am now mute and painful and cold.
     Eyes locked by ice.
Fingers cold as ice.
My breath, my speech, is naught but ice.

And you
reminded me of Summers’ memory.
You, like the Spring had inspired the dozing roots to birth, to burst, to bloom.
And in what catching flame of petals did we two stand?
And under what stars did we two dream?
     But they were all dreams,
weren’t they?
     They were dreams of ice
that warmth I knew in you.
     The flowers, the stars, the warmth in your fingertips
was nothing but the pale paths of cracks in ice.

Stand!  Stand with me beneath this winter.
And wonder
at what dreams lie asleep us beneath this snowy ground.
What lives lie here, what loves, what folly.
Wonder with me
perhaps our hands could touch then.
Perhaps we might remember
those dreams we have forgot.
     Come, come with me tonight
and stand beneath the skeleton of that old cherry tree
and watch the pallid snow fill our world
and wonder
what dreams lie asleep beneath this?
What dreams have we?  What life, what love, what folly.
What dreams still lie asleep beneath this shroud of snow
     never to break from winters sleep
     never again to bloom, to live, nor have chance to die.