Blue Snow

..Left me;
like an ashen cloud
hanging in the blue air,
carrying gasps around
the bushes of deceased worlds.

There, appears a
white dragon;
whenever I take a seat
in the shadows.

No not coming with peace,
it often coats me with
tongues of fire,
as I beg for release...

Even so, never softening
the blue snow
around me,
under me
inside me...
Just burning me
into an ashen cloud,
that travels
with.for.in-
your memory.

Old wounds forget
to remind me,
not to play in green
gardens and happy
forests,
not to sit behind
immature shrubs.

Old wounds thrive
to remind me,
of the hands below
the bitter water,
of the sad piano,
the wintry song that will
make me cry,
of the lost soul,
it ever reminds
me of the ghost in black,
in the nights lost
on a restless bed,
of the elderly face,
the life in your eyes,
it fails to depress me,
fails to make me happy.

They just gather,
die away into blue snow,
that wraps my recollections,
visions...desires,
the views outside my window.
It's all blue, you left me,
to become the ashes of
a woman, no,
you left me to become
the ashes of a cloud,
that belongs nowhere,
to no one,
no place.

..Left me;
like an ashen cloud
hanging in the blue air,
carrying gasps around
the bushes of deceased worlds;
I get lost twice per second there.

For there appears a
white dragon;
whenever I take a seat
in the shadows.

It often coats me with
tongues of fire,
as I beg for release...

I never find, release.

Not in the land of blue snow...
You know..White dragons
like old wounds, pale...but
they never come with peace.

by: Rania Moallem