Vanishing Point

Cold refuge is a grace

the ghost of warmth erased

for those with hearts

unwillingly suspended.


On this snowy snowy Christmas Eve. ❤



When I am cloaked in doubt,

my hope so grounded in the world

that I fall short of dreams,

I picture the moon,

distant yet still luminous,

borrowed from its backdrop

of depthless deep blue velvet,

pinned to the collar

of my black wool coat.