Snow
Snow came last night to rest on her way to colder places.
I woke to her, smiling.
An old lover.
We spent the day in wondering silence.
Two old friends in two old chairs.
Hands touching.
I recalled my tears at her painful diamond brilliance.
How she salted my coal black hair during our lovers walks.
She sighs.
Caresses my face.
The tears return.
My hair is gone but her brilliance remains.
Gently, she kisses my cheek.
With a careless wave and a backward glance
She leaves with a promise of return
© Joseph Philippe Ouellette 2002
Poetry by josephus
Read 975 times
Written on 2006-12-21 at 18:37
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