“The pale branches of winters past
Draw shadowy cracks on barren ground
Littered with yellowed promises
Of journeys to the stars
These tired pages creased with time
Are heavy with scars of fading ink
And the watermark of separation
Runs through every line
Return to these walls once more
And melt the frost on the panes
Let it flow and then run dry
In my crevices and folds”
