earth

the snow splattered ground.
the murdering of summer.
even crows are mute.

the stars are night’s eyes.
they watch, blinking and flinching.
sad eyes shine so bright.

the snow is crusty.
but nobody likes the crusts.
not with yellow suns.

fair maiden looking
through the leaves of ancient books.
no forests for trees.

the night is warm like
dark treacle’s affination.
less pure but sweeter.

a green tinged flower
kissed by happy yellow bees.
petals bleeding off.