The Cold Man's Dream
Lying still, his body in the drift,
his eyes blinking off the ice,
blazing red with cold they gaze up through heavens,
Past the irridescent swirls of silver pink and blues
through the warm blanket of white
Beyond, to the wet-black night
And for an hour he dreams.
"Why have you lain alone?" she beckons him
"If only I had known," he answers her
"Had I but known..."
But the hand that starts the faucet flowing,
Now it waves a mist before his eyes,
of bitter-tasting smoke
And the dream begins to choke.
Never, never mind.
New pleasures shall we find....
