Winter

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Yes, that winter, I touched you,

I felt you too, in the delicate blue,

Your winter shoe, in the white fresh snow,

Lit with Covent skies, your blue eyes,

Lasted like a whistle.

How permanent, is thawed winter,

Raw like a splinter, on snow like a beginner,

I was your tinter, lost gold, much like winter,

Flickers of Portland bill, sprayed spit so shrill,

Lost like a broken wave.

Peeping through glass at a gliding bird,

I try and deposit my words, let them fly and be blurred,

But you’re still heard, your towering height,

Visits often, your touch softens,

Like ink on my heart.