where the wild winds pull;
over the tilts and truths of this threshold.
So I gaze beyond
for a star's second;
looking in, wondering
how our feet can carry us into silence;
across the blackened floorboards
and back, deep into some sinking room
where I sense firelight. Surely,
I have been here before.
with the snow;
she knows the softer ways
when time was a mother,
but I traveled here over
hills and heartlands, learned
languages and traded love
for some rocks– and never once regretted
the back roads or the unknowns;
so she nodded with my shadow.
The darkness wavers, hovering between
gold and night; I am the streetlights
and the drifting snow; a simple creature,
I only know the silence beyond that top step,
a craving for what is fiercely blind,
my own darkened door wide open.
You have the look about you
of autumn; something fiercely gold,
soft-spoken and fallen. Do you sleep?
Do you close your eyes anymore?
The sound of snow clouds
drifting low from the sky,
ready to drop to the ground.