Under a Winter Moon

Do you see
the moon I see
on this cold, clear vibrant night?

As I think of you
my breath flows out, hot and steaming, balloon-like,
into the frigid air,
hanging there,
as if waiting to freeze my thoughts
and unspoken words in mid flight.

White clouds are flying high on the wind,
nomadic on their midnight journey;
going where ever clouds go to gather together
and bring  the peaceful, silver rain
that replenishes and cleanses  this tired Earth.

Far in the distance, I see two stars;
the ones we used to dream on, long ago,
before our storms;
thoughts now separated by the paths we have chosen,
but never our hearts.

Do you ever think of me in your long, endless nights?

Too soon
the sun will come out to play and revive our languid spirits
as she births a new day;
her warmth seeping and spreading into old bones
and tired souls.

But until then,
as I close my eyes and drift to dreams;
I carefully save your spirit in the warm pocket of my heart
and simply remember you
another day.