She is the ache that wakes me,

Her breath runs shivers down my spine,

And through those countless lonely nights,

Oh how I dreamed that she’d be mine.

I walked along in darkness -

The bitter cold was nothing new -

But then I felt her arms around me,

And she said she loved me too.

I lost myself in her hazel eyes,

She set my chains alight,

For now I’m hers,

All troubles melt -

She is my one delight.

I was thrilled to discover, long ago, that those twinkling jewels in the distant sky

Were not mere lights hanging against a curtain of midnight blue,

But were instead flashes of countless orbs, blazing in the infinite dark,

As if screaming, “Here I am!” to that great uncaring cold.

It makes the names we’ve granted them even more beautiful,

These universes in miniature, each given personality, and consciousness -

For what are we ourselves, but tiny dots in the dark, proclaiming our worth

To the long night?

Here’s to those bright-burners, who illuminate our skin in soft twilight,

And here’s to those they inspire, for within their hearts, the stars burn brightest of all.

Nothing Left,

But Regret’s Wistful Gaze.

Straining.

Tortured.

Ashen Daze.

Summer’s sweet perfume,

Wafting lazily,

Tastes the waters,

And dances through blossomed branches,

Like a lover’s silky breath upon my fingertips.

Halcyon glow,

Caresses scintillating glass,

While cerulean skies soar

From scarlet passion

To indigo depths.

Ancient stars

Smolder in twilight,

Effervescent,

As the city gently sighs.

Sweet Memory.

I walked Lake Hamilton's dreary shores in deep winter. Cheers echoed across the park as some neighborhood children waged another campaign in their months-long snowball fight. Pete’s Café did brisk business, with many cars parked outside, pinging in steely protest at the cold. A young homeless woman huddled beneath some cardboard. With an electric flick of my wrist, her shelter warmed to more habitable levels, and a nearby Ford’s windows crystallized in spectacular geometry. I smiled and continued down the frost-rhymed path. Closer to the battle now, squeals erupted as the children rained icy hell upon one another. A sharp crack rang out across the ice, and a small figure was swallowed by the lake. Shouting, I ran toward the distant scene, as others did the same. The bitter water cut into me, until, finally grasping a tiny hand, I was pulled onto solid ground by the growing crowd. Her lips a pale blue, I searched desperately for a pulse that wasn’t there. A frightful shaking overtook me, as searing heat poured from my palm into her small sodden form. Steam hissed angrily around us. When the humid air cleared, her cheeks held a gentle fire. She gasped, hugging me, her teary eyes held tight against the frigid air. Unease crept up my spine, as a deafening silence washed over us. The crowd lingered still, their frozen, lifeless eyes locked in horrified fascination. I retched at the terrible sight – a macabre monument to the dreadful balance I had struck.

First footsteps crunched Autumn’s leafy harvest,

And laughter rang shrill through youth’s long Winter,

He tasted true passion in Spring, gazing into those sparkling eyes,

In Summer he burned longest, brightest -

Yet even twilight must end.

’Neath distant skies, and foreign stars, one may hear

Leaves crunch once more.