Clement

Only your footfalls dare
contact the road
on this night that belongs
to winter.
Perhaps, a lifetime ago,
in the earlier days of beauty,
you would say it was
pixie dust, proof of another reality.
But now,
white specks that give color
to the restless wind
are only that.

The sound of midnight
echoes in your ears,
the deafening sound of silence
that only satiates
those whirlwinds of thought, indecision.
The moon has taken her leave
and the dots of hope,
she takes with her.
You pray there is a safe haven
somewhere up ahead, sometime soon.

I am there,
very wordlessly walking beside you.
If you are very quiet,
you can hear
two sets of footsteps,
on the wintry road.
We will brave the blizzards
hand in hand.
Perhaps, somewhere up ahead,
and sometime soon,
this falling snow will once again
look like pixie dust to you.