Winter sun

Everything breaks through into blossom
by 2pm, a single shade of sunkissed afternoon.
My skin shines like marble, smells of flowers.

There's nothing as hopeful
as winter sun
nothing as truthful.

A sheer cloak, pale gold
over the trees
over your particular midday smile
and my hair.

Everything is clear and bright
and things that don't make sense
don't matter

the horizon has never been so clear
I can count the leaves on trees
I can shrug off the weight of winter
of cold grief and shiver

everything breaks through into blossom
and you can really live this day
by 2pm

but then it ends all too soon
wintergrey and ice
shiver comes to rest
darkness against sky
and lost birds.