Pure And Cold White

When snow is thick on the very waves

And the waves rise up like screaming witches

And the dead lie gray and cool in their graves

And the tailor ends his line of stitches;

When the snow covers over the windows

And drifts higher than the gabled roof,

And I can no longer watch where it bellows

Against the road, where you walked, aloof;

Then, only then, will I finally sleep

In a sleep like death, wherein I won’t dream.

So from now until Winter this watch I’ll keep

And sew another long wedding gown seam.

Trooped ranks of daisies, pure and cold white,

Tempt my mind to believe in the frost.

When a motherly breeze stirs them with light,

Pretty fingers so warm, my hope spark is lost

And its fire dies down to an ash-colored coal

And I prick my finger just to remind my blood

That my heart is still beating, and once it was full

And in Winter pure blankets of snow hide the mud.

And the diamond-clad ground any darkness will pierce.

Someday the seasons will swing ‘round their head

And smile again, with that smile so fierce,

On the one who returns, even back from the dead.