Vapor.

Tired ocean eyes

stare at an endless horizon

Downcast lashes for now

Dark and snow-tipped

fluttering like birds

on the echo of a hillside hymn

a prayer whispered

from languid terrain

and cold exhales

Pale curtains part

for intrepid dancers

a slow ghost waltz

rising up gracefully before fading

like mist; a fistful of dust

disappearing in a ceiling of shade

Grey and white, silver and still

Shrouding the jewels

that encrust your gilded winter

like a sunless daydream

You curl into warm sweaters

in search of humbler stones

I’ll watch you comb your beaches

carelessly plucking quiet agates

collecting my unread poems

or the weight of my longing

silenced, in a small glass jar