Speckle of Air

Standing in the shadow
of a soaring Paper Birch,
its deciduous wings
freckled with snow,
a little girl cries
I find her straying
her lips are smothered in glue,
the life in her eyes tremble
Behind the closed door
the color is blue
I want to keep her voice
and speak to her of beautiful things
Light has left the sky
my throat swallows my words
I rest my hand on her velvet hair
With scattered wings
I draw a castle in the air
I dampen her mouth with
spit and snow
Her life is cold
and her body is bruised
I tell her a story
where the moon is white
and little people are safe to dance
in the middle of night
Her breath has softened
her heart is slow
The snow fades
from freckle to foe
On her plastic skin
I lay a kiss
The petals in my journal
begin to crack and dry

Written for Three Word Wednesday