Her waist a stone laid wall I know
Beside a path walked quietly in the dark

With hair sudden like crashing waves
Informal as a Christmas morning
Full of lights, full of sparks

Persistent as the cattails in the northern breeze
Steady as the trees
And cool as stars, almost unreachable, untouchable
Unbearably far
  
Yet softer than the flowing mane
Of the mare untamed
In distant field that was once up close

With a breath of steam for a cold grey world
Hang on through mortal comatose
And wake