Love Letter

Yesterday I drove to the snow

. thought a bit of you

. a bit of me

and the clouds, huge,

pressed against the mountain,

seemed to be waiting for the sun

to back down so freely,

they could roam the sky.

I wonder, would you think them cowardly,

sitting on the mountain's edge

like Mother Nature's Cinderella,

alone at the ball

fingering a strand of pearls,

not quite comfortable

in the power of magic?

I prefer to think them polite,

standing down like the step sisters would have

if Cinderella had once, found her voice.

You, my darling, would see yourself

the sun, the hero

asking only the chance

to share the sky