an urban blast,
flurries of dispelled air
brushing through the trees
breathing
over the city
as the clouds fly overhead.

her eyes are tired, dry;
the ice leaves many footprints
she watches
the times parade by
acted out again
in the very same spot
just because.

it all sits in a dream
that lives in her mind
dancing through the confusion
lightly
fairy dancers
in a motley parade.

the world is just a story
open to elaboration
invention, creation
addition
here and there
of a little touch of
magic.

she looks so much younger
when she sings.
little lullabyes
twinkled away by the wind.
he would have stood
just there;
he would have smiled
just so
if this were tomorrow,
yesterday,
any other time in the world.

her time
twirls around her face
gliding through the hourglass
sunlit and sparkling
as she enjoys
the wind, the chill
the goodness and the warmth.

she sleeps,
through the fury
around her.
she looks so much younger,
had you noticed?

faces upturned,
bathed in whispering chill.
the wind glides
on butterfly wings of tuneless blue,
gently slowing
to brush over a flower,
a smile,
a coffee shop jest.

the question from so long ago
penned in unbearable naivete
shines again
with the sun in her eyes.

what’s not to love?

gossamer gleamings,
a blurred rose, naturally real in its falsehood;
wishes drifting past
her clear, closed eyes,
are all gracefully swept up
into a red ribbon mirage.

gossamer glitters,
wafting on musical breath,
their snow shadows vanishing
touching the frost-kissed grass and daisies.

stars fall in this place,
smiling up at their sky
as they drift in diamond formation
toward the mirror sea
where icebound petals
dream away to distant shores.
they carry the memories, still untarnished
of a beautiful, whimsical
once upon a time.

following the fairy tale fantasy
they shimmer,
lost in an enchanted, meandering world
only too glad
to keep them.

them, and their otherworldly fellows:
simple satin snowflakes
at my dark
happy midnight.

feel free to sit down,
and admire the view.
feel free to sit down,
i’ll sit beside you.

i’ll show you my writing,
i’ll sing you my song;
the words tripping and skipping
as they hum along.