Immense cold covers the land
trees mime, frost fractals worn grass
turning to mud in midday thaw
Old things die hard, men animals
crunched to brittle bones and you
continue on your mindless task
of trying to find yourself.
You aren’t hidden at the turn of the road
or where we made love by summer lake
all those words we washed with bitter wine
mean nothing now as January claims our
For a second there we turned back time
refound the love so hard to find
smouldered with the green fire in your eyes
but then the wind of chance had turned the key
locked us out of ‘’you and me’’.
You won’t find yourself at the corner of the street
or even dancing on a foreign beach
you can’t quite finger what you’ve forgot
but I keep it here in my hidden heart
labelled clearly with all that we have lost
the day this winter came to claim us.