Mist and snow, driven on parallel winds,
Swirl in front of me.
Fire the delicate white tendrils
Twist around my
Feet, bright in the headlights of
Dark against the grey road. Lost in their own
Terrifying midnight shadow when the impromptu
Caravan has passed.
They burn with their intensity, these
Greedy jewels that glitter in the dim grey
Light of porches and parking lots.
They are chips of the
Eternal, shattered in some
Medieval examination and found
And I wander among them, one more
Fragment blown on the
Fierce winter wind.
11 December 2010
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