chagall backdrop

Of course it’s my field
where your horse stands

Snowflakes fry my frozen ground
chill me solely
though you are welcome to stay
if as you travel you recall
all that’s been lost

Time at the rock
and bread at the table

Crumbs at the card game
kissed away

Under blankets
and crisp sheets

Atop the lavender
beneath first snow

With Time
tense and tired

Till
Spring thaw then

Death is . . .
after all

© Chagall 2013

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