memos to love, overlooked in a crowd

moon-behind-foliage

wake me
when the careless moon impales
on naked branches
and stardust thrashes
through ocean waves
before surrendering
to the depths
of my inheritance

call my name
over screaming gales
until your whisper rests
on my pillow
with the secrecy
of an errant tear

take my hand
unburdened
and lead me to the lands
where clouds are born
of daffodils
and the envious sun
harvests color
from submissive sweeps

think of me
when burning cold
sears your bones
and only one thought
might fan hell’s flames
to sacrifice virginal snow
and ease the in-drawn breath


© Beth Winter, 2014

Public Domain Photo

Slow Learners
Where No Horizons Rise