Numbed fingers feeling for something.
Passing over this frozen land.
Mud under the nails.
Blood scaring the swan white ground.
Spin these moments into time and lay on the ground like the night time frost.
Powdering my heart.
Coating the fragile flowers that turn towards the winter’s sun.
Careful, as you trample them underfoot.
Crumbling and cracking, escaping into the air.
The dust of winter, coating my bones.