On a middle path
laid with unstable stones,
each step uncertain,
I waited for the slip to claim me,
left or right.
I exhaled impalpable breath
into the foggy barrens
and caught your warmish light
distant at the centre of my vision.
You shone dimly through me, projecting days
and days without falling. Within shifting clouds
you sketched the outlines of my cold arms
sheltered inside unmoving embraces,
offering me belief in a staying world.
I didn't mean to ignite you that Spring.
You set the warm winds in motion,
stirring freedom to rise below you.
Your hands made plain a landscape of beginnings.
You discovered how to make life itself,
contained inside the belly of a wildflower
you found already picked and held in a glass vase.
Restless with promises
you cleared the sky of its shadows,
and filled it with visions
drawn with colours
taken from your own eyes.
You wound a carefulness around my centre
and counted the time by blowing wishes
from each of my fingertips,
awaiting the sweetness
that I failed to deliver
into your open arms
in the Autumn.
You were gone with the first snowfall.
