The Center of Winter

Thirty six months of icicles
dripping down the edge of the earth,
they swing like time pieces
forgotten in this blizzard
in which we sleep.
Desperate to fly but
your wings are frosted over,
bleeding out stained glass
laced with the purples of sorrow..
oh, what a lovely shade
for summer's death.
Make sprints across the frozen ground
but the world slips away
so steadily
and cruelly
tempted to take from you
your sweetest smile...
that smile that brings the second day of summer
and a promise for an end
of a blizzard..
the kind of smile that defies
gravity
and snow...
grinning like a half moon
painting the snow a lovelier shade
of roses and daffodils.
Maybe it's the kind of smile that
survives,
even in the center
of winter.

**To my second day of summer...a smile's worth more than you'll know**