Bare feet in the snow
Stained glass pines dance in fog light
Girl in chasuble.
Trees still and silent
Then timbrels cling on branches
Wind chimes for deaf souls.
Lean on an old pine
Needles drape baby blond eyes
God walks by Moses.
Lovers on their trails
Alone with their hearts and boots
Snow mounds look the same.
Ashes in a pile
Poor man’s mountaintop resort
Wind lifts up debris.
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