The Snow
powdered path
among the trees
frosted flowers
growing wild
little rivers
slowly flow
icy sleep.
up above
high above
two birds lost
two black dots
flying high
in the sky
papery white
and my pen
slipping.
stepping down
the hill whispers
in the wind.
to the village
to the village
passing time
stories, flames
chimney smoke.
and I smile
singing soft
swirls rise up
up above
high above
dancing dreams.
as we kiss
hands get warm
in your pocket.
footprints left
all behind
in the snow.
(D.J., 23/12/05)