Splintered glass strewn across the ice,
like a broken mirror that rips and throbs
with the rippling cracks of heartache
each drop of blood a window –

My footsteps falter, the rain biting,
I hold up my hands, streaked with cuts,
my tears tangle with the droplets,
and I dance alone into the night.

Footprints in the snow, encased in ice,
a golden spire that overlooks the lost
shards of a shattered and crying heart.
Hidden in the nook of a tread lies
a single stubborn stem, its pale blossom
opening slowly in the veil of moonlight.

Poem and art by me, A. A. Zingler