Shower in white,

my darling,

the cold dancers

floating down to you

with tounge outstreatched

to catch them.

Gathering in fragile clusters

oh hair and shoulders,

blanketing hard earth with

gleaming beauty.

Bathe in tender flakes,

my soldier,

falling slowly in the wind

to cover the angel

you made yesterday,

freshly pressed with joy,

burying your cold blue lips

beneath the snow.