Frozen

There is still snow on the ground.
It is the same snow that yesterday
framed you with its imperfect white
by the lake and hardened under my feet.
The same light still blinds upwards from it,
more so now another empty night has turned it to ice.

There is still a sky of Pacific Ocean blue.
It too is sunlit in the way that yesterday
the world seemed to be. It is still
distant, untouchable; an illusion.
It is clear, cold and beautiful to be within.
There are new clouds, high and bright as blades.

There is still the sun. Always the sun.
Holding and haloing your face as we walk,
it transforms you to an ikon, adds gold
to your image. Like a church, it makes me want to cry.
It illuminates the water and the ice
and hangs another weight upon my scared heart.

There is still you and there is still me.
After the walking and the children,
after the sun and snow, after all this.
You are a friend holding me and I am burning
silently with your image and I think that I am choosing
winter; becoming a heart frozen into the water.