Silver is a ghost,

A laugh,

The lining of a cloud.

Silver is the rustling

Of bare trees

On a cold winter day.

Silver are the winds,

Calling to me.

Silver is the twang

Of a guitar string.

Silver is like the bitter metallic aroma

Wafting to my nostrils.

Silver, the cold, smooth ice

Scorching my tongue,

Sliding down my throat.

Silver is the sweet,

Serene goddess,

Softly playing her harp.

Silver is like the crescent moon

Shining brightly

Through the cloud-filled night.