Wintry

The snow fell so quietly outside of the cabin that master assassins bowed to it.

And the trees evergreen coddled each flake that wanted to be held.

The snow that didn’t want to be coddled

coddled us as we lied tired after fighting with it, taking it up as arms.

 

The fire’s beastly roar in the pit warmed us both,

her and I didn’t have to be as close as we were.

I’m pretty sure her hair, like vines, pulled my head close to hers when our lips met.

Maybe it was the firelight messing with my eyes.

 

The Moon hung like an Arabian scimitar in the night sky,

lacerating darkness with its mysterious gray light.

It watched after us as we slept,

protecting us from the total darkness that wished to fall upon us.

 

Our arms took up the mantle of that fire,

of that snow,

of the moon.

They created a beautiful scene,

a beautiful time.

A beautiful night.