I’m singing to myself
under my nose
Frozen winter water
spills across a red rose.
I circle your marks
in the snow
I can smell your morning powder
as the wind blows.
Trees keep whispering
their voice is crystal clear
They remind of the good old days
when you were still so near.
I climb to a path
which I know that doesn’t exist
I folow the pattern of your cry
through a heart shatering mist.
Your feathers are smoking
in a black greedy fire
you keep on dancing
although I know your desire.
Take me with you
To that shiny mirror gate
I need to see my own reflection
Until it’s too late…