Words of a world, strange though wonderful.

Memories Stir

A blanket of dust

now covers our picture.

Soft earth that was once your skin,

is now dusted with snow.


This sheet had layered

over months without warmth.

But we are soon

to hold each other again.


Then Spring bed will be dawned upon,

and rains of April;

shower mud off of your

brilliant reflection.


Summer may bore

our new year,

to melt mountain’s

ice covers.