bird, bird hopped to branch, sinking

in autumn, too far to flee, crimson to his right
now his pique to winter's swings

and to surrender the nest, fly
to swim on the callous wind
to bright for the ocean under.



Emma under six cars flying snow through

Sky, sky, she demands
you stop this slushy madness

to arch through the air, ever soldier
render herself above the firmament, a
frozen hearth wielding our sun



Pins dance to the glaze of the trees

She knits to the glare of the sun on the clocks
to tap feet on the ground

To the needle as pierce, wring through the maze
to the cold in her hands and stare
to dance to your fingers' plea



She stares through the icebox window

They fall for us looking away
hail to puncture the surface

To run the plains, sword unsheathed
hand blistered to the battle rush,
snowflakes' raid of the eyes



craft the fabric of snowfall

Your curtains hang of ceilings
the sun peaking through eyelets

and they slip through her hands as she sprints
they play feathers of bird
watching her sift through their backs



only return home

only strip of the outside,
to admit your defeat

only her voice singing herself
only your breaths to ripple the fabric before
to travel to bed



and collapse on the pillows

please hold you beneath them
your strings to falling to eyes

and sleep for epiphany;
the touch of the blankets, pray
for moon, as you're falling, arise

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demeter+e2verse challenge=lunenga