January’s chill at last relents with the slant
of a Spring sun.
Winter’s secrets buried beneath the snow
hum your songs along rooftops,
across crystal threads,
beneath oceans apart
where clouds circle the mystery
from powder grey to scarlet red ...
... where the universe skids on a cant
and rains your truth in petals strewn about a
And when I could not follow,
you left me
holding your crimson tears in my palm,
colours bleeding in the summer rain.
Copyright © Jill Martin