White moments become white blankets
Covering past secrets in serenading flight
All the past clings to the present
In a gentle, quilted night.
Straw stitches are scented with humanity
But blown about by immortality
The rebirth of winter melts the ice
Of blanketed boughs reaching for light
Dormant sunbeams reflect in the seams
As heated breaths dance
slowly ascending into nothingness
~DaLe 12/15/08
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