A room reflected in a window reflected
In one slow tear
Journeying across my cheek;
The night descends around me
Behind barren branches
And a young maiden moon.
Cold that bites at my cheeks,
Freezes tears where they stand,
Cold that numbs my bones,
And challenges my heart
To a duel in the courtyard.
My face is stinging from the slap
Of winter’s sleek glove -
Shattering frozen tears like glass.
Cold like memories of falling
And warm rooms with snowy windows,
Cold like remembering how to forget.
The night descends heavily,
Indigo sky with stifled stars,
A halo around the maiden moon,
And clouds red with the blood
Of cities dying by the riverside
In crumbling brick factory ghosts.
Nose pressed against the icy windows,
Trying to forget,
I can’t escape from the remembering.
The stars glittered like tiny jewels
Against an indigo backdrop
That night,
As I watched the warm fog
Spread from the corners
Until the window was filled with it,
And the stars were in my eyes,
And a solitary rose against the sky
Bore witness to it all.
I touch the tough, dried petals
Briefly, then return them
To their box hidden away.
I lift my eyes, heavy with fallen stars
Into the vague depth
Of a late autumn sky,
What was once blue burned black,
Charred and crumbling remains
Speckled with gray stifled stars,
And a young maiden moon
Stands alone and silent
Above the sharp barren branches.
My God, it’s growing cold again…