Cold Song

Always afraid of this direction
I don’t know what is over there
and so the ground below is new to me
and all I see are dying trees
collapsing over roads
that no one drives on.
I am long gone from that town
where I set out before the snow storm
buried everything.
Her winter eyes were freezing open,
but she couldn’t see the contrast
of my outline from the background
set around us.
Empty buildings up for lease, but every
banner there that tells you
who to call isn’t legible at all,
and so I walk on through the broken
glass to find out it is just as cold inside.
The ice was like a living thing
crawling over everything
and strong enough to barely chip away.
During that first push
I could have sworn I saw
her black hair just erupting
in the snowflakes.
She was plucking at a violin making
music in the storm that wasn’t complimenting
anything around her.
I really thought I found her, but it’s easy
to see ghosts deep in the blizzard
where the eye isn’t as accurate
and the wind begins to tell
a different story.

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