I stood here once before
on this waltzing floor
deserted by the petals —

upon the frockless windows
zirconias congregate in constellation
patterns,
beyond the glass the skeletal
boughs bend
with the watchet wind.

the balance sheet bleeds white
as yesterday’s snow,  air-crisp
against the seeping eastern light —

reluctant legs lunge
from the starting line
once again.

D. G. Vachal © 2014

*** Photography: Reflect by Mikhail Tkachev