Dreams hung on the branches of his mind,
Like the wet snows of December,
Each flake a single moment in time,
A word, a person, an emotion, a place.
Icy blue, memories of days long past,
Some of the flakes melted or missing,
Words unsaid, and long undone,
Faces vivid in a long forgotten moment
In a piece of prismatic crystalline ice,
He watched her dance, wishing it was he,
Full of beauty and full of grace, it was she
The white swan, looking for her black.
Dreams of December snows, silver nights,
Dreams of memories warming the heart,
Dreams of days gone by,
Dreams of you.