Winter Maneuvers

It seemed like soft twilight
and revelations spilt
upon the jaundiced moon
from a crystalline mind
like funeral bells

Comfortably crouched around
the little bonfire
delicately stoking
broken embers
steel-blue glow
buried in the ashes

Unfastened from the stars
icy flakes fell into the
golden inferno
only melting away like
an afternoon shadow's
silent wake

Mercurial dreams spent
warily under summer's gaze
never left his mind
for even in the snow
the sun's die was
cast

August's daze
and the dust's haze
coated dry evening coats
sweet harvest time
a reminder of Winter's
eternal embrace

Here in the glaze of
of frozen peaks
such thoughts seemed
strange
wrapped about his ears
congealed in time

The indelible sting of
the north wind
could never pine away
the cold comfort of
paradise and
Winter maneuvers

They found his footsteps
etched in the snow
a gentle smile and
parchment skin
stretched out for an
evening's nap
in the mid-day sun
like a despot of Spring.

Headstones

Traipsing dizzily across the yellowed
grass, perished under the
noon-day sun, hazily tracing forgotten
names, stacked together like
fallen timbers after an ice storm,
the headstones accept my playful
touch, fingers still ashy from tears
of old statues, baleful in watch
under the mossy tapestry, draping low
gracile tendrils woven
over sturdy oak limbs,
crestfallen beneath the weight
of ruddy sunsets, the stream of time
flows like honeyed wine in
view of a thousand eyes,
forever peering out from
Mother's embrace.