When peace leaves, ever setting as winter
he bitterly tosses all chance beneath
her sun, howling madly while he pins her
mean like a crazy raver with claws sheathed.
What might to live steadfast in raging fire!
Pleading peace and fractions of smoky clouds
up after three, dogged she loves through ire
unrepentant, refusing to be cowed
while he looses logic bared of reason--
thunderous icicles with poisoned tips
cut fully in form ill-timed to seasons
of babies, bills, dogs, cats and sinking ships.
She whispers welcome to the stormy breach
wholeheartedly, forever out of reach.