The grass shimmers
muted green
with cold emerald glitter.

Small onyx mirrors
of rippling beauty
loose their heated motion,
hardening with a lack of passion.

A stationary figure
finds light from
the siblings of
the absentee sun.

Releasing the teasing
Blinking space furnaces
finally expose their
naked mythological fury.

Breath curls
evaporating the last
warm spirits,
till the night vapors
swirl no more,
and the stiffness
From winter’s vengeance
let’s death overcome and own
the night watchman’s frozen form.