as the snow fell silent and swift
far to the north
outside her small window
etched with frosts hand

she sat wrapped in deep blankets
she sat staring at the blazing wood in the fireplace
watching the heady smoke rise
to disappear as i did years ago

a soft sound appears slow
from distant wood
and she flies to window sill
trying not breath lest it fog the view
waiting for track or trace of approaching footsteps
but only the snow falls this night

night can draw its own version of time
making moments into years
she should have left this place long ago
found the happiest of songs to dance to

but here she sits still as a dove
quiet as innocence
here by the window
paying a penance for my foolish heart
waiting on my promised return
waiting for her cheating heart of a man
who laid down with drunken song at the dark crossroads
and never did rise again
here under my nameless gravestone