White crystals dangling
from frozen tree limbs
symbolize the month of December
that's when your birthday is
Orange lights of numbered telephone buttons
surrounded by endless midnight
for the times we whispered to each other
until the sun peaked over the blue mountains
Yellowed pieces of parchment
that we carefully scripted our dreams on so long ago
my precise artist's hands shake slightly
as I touch the wet, slippery tip of my brush
to a memory on the multi-colored palette
and glide a deep red across the next part of the never-ending canvass
that special color is for my cheeks
on the starless night when you first summoned the courage to kiss me