masked
from the winters snow
surrounded by the color of cleanliness
never have we touched his thick coat
with mitten less hands
for we know how cold burns
i stride
wearing my printed smile
stainless steal
plastic shine
tasted less stale
when i was a  child
i used to play piano
giving mocking birds words of their own
so they too
will forever be free
like the ideas of a writer
racing through his pen
drawing out
my lovely mothers eyes
deepest blue
like the oceans blanket
always comfortably draping me
till she closed them shut
was the day i played broken keys
snow settles as the color white
only in my memories
hands became mitten less
for i
know how the cold burns