Helvetian willows
Weep into the
dirty yellow snow.
The hazy sun
casts silver glaze,
pure, pale icing,
bleak side of winter.
I walk there, alone,
a cinema for my
thoughts and pain,
unraveling
with each step.
The interplay of
nature and love,
support my fall
into the eternal
great unknown.
A rich life of
shadows, thinly
framed with hope,
cushions the blow
that comes,
like the wind
and icy snow,
that is all I know.
Those willows
That weep, remind
me that they
once danced too,
like our love, before
the alpine cold,
shut them down.
That is all I know.
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