Winter
is only an angle
In a revolution of the sun
The sun whose warmth
Depends on who it's on
I remember the light through your hair
The soft ocean air
In the summers of our youth.

But where there's light
There's darkness elsewhere
Your gold turned cold as sun bleached our hair
Salt clouded my eyes.
I'd never seen Christmas in sunny blue skies.

The frost winds of home
was my fire alone
Old smiles walked the miles
Felt in the ache in my bones

I saw myself in
the black mirrors of your eyes
The girl I didn't recognise
Recycled Pythagoras’ lies

Like the first lips of Spring’s greens
I came to see
The angle’s strength seemed in
Separation’s degrees