Woke up
To freezing Temps
Snowflakes
And
Wind, my muse.
Howling comes
Stumbling
Down the alley, while
Grey tones rob me
Of my encouraging mood.
This is what happens
When I consider
Life without light
And neverending blues.
Presented hard
Cold to the touch
Disbelieving
Under an artisan’s hands
Weakening
Soft swirls of metal
She becomes
Shimmering fragments
Glistening diamond shades
A curling pillow
Lays before him as he slaves
His to create, having her no other way