When Winter Comes

I could have killed you earlier
instead, I let you live.

How can I give you peace
when leaves are sprouting?

What shall I do with love;
my heart is burning?

And more the fields erupt
saffron, purple, tiny lilies,

hillsides rising green
and red, I hold you still.

When winter comes, if blizzards
keep you from me, then I will,

dragged into the crystal woods
with gentle deer, hunting wolves,

at last, release you there.

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