Stand unwavering in the snow,
Brace against the wind.
Stone-faced, I was born in the cold.

Wake up to the winter man,
cold and uninterested.
But, beautiful nonetheless.

My winter man,
coated with a
layer of ice.

I slip clumsily
away from him,
slide towards him,
but he is always
out of reach.

He thaws
for a moment
with an embrace
and a subtle kiss,  
then disappears in to
the great white north,

Leaving me longing
for the sweet sting
of summer.

It's a call with no response,
sleeplessness and cigarettes.
Whiskey haunted memories,
of something that wont ever be.
But he didn't promise, didn't lie,
You knew this from the beginning.
Girl, quit your dreaming.

Honey I came home, to the clearing by the creek.
To the place where our smiles are lit by the roaring midnight flame.
To the place where the lullaby water sings us to sleep,
So we can dream our whiskey dreams.

Where the stars watch over, with their hundred million eyes.
Where we hold one another, in the rainy month of May.

Honey I came home, but not a soul is near.
Only ashes in the ring dare to hint that we were here.

Those summer months have faded in to fall,
It makes me wonder if we were ever here at all.

Honey, won’t you meet me at the clearing by the creek?

I toss and turn
and when I try and
shut my eyes I see
that brilliant smile
and the way the
lamp light falls on
your freckled shoulders
as you drift off
to sleep.
It’s there as clear as
a photograph.

I recall the moment
I thought to myself
“remember this”
and wonder why it even
crossed my mind.

I had a talk with a friend

Who told me “keep your head up kid”
And if the “new flame doesn’t

spark like the old one did,
It’s probably best 
if you didn’t.”

I don’t want you 
to be
my stepping stone. 

But I can’t seem to
 go this alone.

I keep telling myself
write it out,
talk it out.  

but the smell
of your sweatshirt
erases my writing

and leaves me speechless.

I keep my head

to the side

to avoid 

what lies ahead, 

and what
lingers 
behind.

I keep my head

to the side

to avoid 

what lies ahead, 

and what
lingers 
behind.

these days the sun sets

more to the south

than the west. 



And your name 

sounds more like a curse

than a blessing.

I keep my head

to the side

to avoid 

what lies ahead, 

and what
lingers 
behind.