The flower of the night is

broken-hearted..

& it is more so when

the moon is in the sky,

full &

shining high

 - so it splits the light in two

& gives water through

its single tear.

For a lover it would appear

the blizzard that follows

is as a frozen over  lake,

saved

for a brave pair of lips from a life

that had dared to try and fit a

melting of fluid cracks together.

Painstakingly long the task

as each merged into the

other

& strode onto the back of another.

Drifting over the waterway

systems of my own

canals,

there is no existance or escape

the mind wonders

far beyond a frozen lake..........

a springtime crocus with velvet folded arms

and a silvered heart

a coloured night

of frozen coloured tears

and painted winter art

bedded gently in my chart

sleeping ground

of snowy footprints and hardened grass

wet bark against my skin

and a rememberance of him.