Little violet handkerchief folded on the ground,
too shy to even show your face.
I remember the brave tip of your chin over
your bare shoulder. And here your timid visage
darkens a nipped golden wednesday at the edge
I know you've come to ease my heart, so
dry of all that is green, so dark from the strange
angle of the distant white globe in the sky.
To calm my sleep filled with the frost-ache,
and dreams of crackled leaves on black ground.