Poland In December

Frozen chaos painted the widows
pristine sky blue seen through ice
icicle patterns spirals and swirls

We opened the door and stepped outside

“Jesus it’s cold” your breath the only cloud

Upon the fields of snow
no footprint touched
the freezing glitter on its surface

Sunrise pink, day-glow iridescent
the forest of silver-birch trunks
caught on fire with soft rose light

White, white, crisp cold white
under the pristine sky
and a forest of pink trees flaming in the sunrise

You held your closed fingers to your mouth
breathing on them hoping to warm them
and I could see in your eyes how you scintillated and smiled

We stood there as the chill seeped into ankles
snow deep boots
and the perfect stillness of it all

“Coffee” you said, “I need hot coffee”

We opened the door and stepped inside

Frozen chaos painted the widows
pristine sky blue seen through ice
and the bed sheets still warm from the night

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