winter buries her flames,
buries whispers of river and leaf,
the sea wraps turquoise into bronze,
everything is full of white bones,
the sky is an illusion of clouds,
her petticoats blue rags,
the day is as heavy as a paperweight,
as brittle as a glass flower,
the light is as naked as the trees
gold could not be more cold,
the sunlight reflects in the snow,
her amber eyes gleam,
nothing flows, nothing flowers,
nothing flows, nothing flowers,
and your smile is the sun,
a ghost as faint as watercolour,
the brush dipped in daylight,
a little part of me.