silver snare
of aged boughs
dust beneath the day
an almost mute
reminder
of another
I can’t say

where and why
it made me blush
for reasons –
none so sweet
as moments
begged my
swollen heart
retreat

to the safety
of forgetting
how it felt
do you recall –
were there stars
and did we grieve
their silent
fall

from grace
were wishes whispered
without fear
for something less
would change
this fragile life
into one
of thankfulness

this prayer
to joys counted
some but once
tho some by name
a light
beyond the searching
where for love
the light became

a golden heat
beneath the snow
where tender
sleeps
the crimson dawn

. . .