This soft grey cusp of Spring
after an evening chasing the borealis
I set fire to a etched part on forty-years-ago pages
inked in a hollow longing for something more something shiny something rich
I set fire under an overcast cool sky on the cusp of Spring
white smoke rising in curls & swirls of forgiveness
smoke proportional to the sorrow
the rising equal to the promise of blue
white smoke rising
tears in eyes
smoke in hair
whispering prayers
to the hollow longing part
whispering prayers aloud
to the promise collide of self & cloud
and unexpectedly under a sky opening to blue
it began to snow
