Singing to Christmas roses on the mountainside 01-01-26
The sky is full of ice.
Anguished shrapnel that
tears through the thickest
of winter coats.
Between us is a dock.
An impassable canyon
that rots at my feet
and falls away into waves.
Your eyes.
Glassy pearls nestled above
a crimson dragon
curled tightly around your neck.
The loose end flails in the wind.
I yearn to tie it into a knot
but am reminded by the flapping sails
that this was an inevitability.
A final glance.
Your face is a boiling tattoo
etched into my mind-
it warms the heart slightly.
I turn and walk towards the hills
because on the snow capped peaks
is where the mountain and the sea
will finally meet.
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