A Touch Of White
Millions of snowflakes gone, my poet friend,
Across the slanted February roofs,
You lift my hand in witness to whiteness,
That burns beyond the scope of human eyes.
The last rays of an old sun warm the bones,
Paint glamor on the windows of the soul.
I want to be a part of your stanza,
Forever and a winter, if I may.
Copyright, Sandra Fowler,2009