Love Letter

Love Letter

Yesterday I drove to the snow,
. thought a bit of you
. a bit of me,
the clouds pressed against the mountain
seemed to be waiting for the sun to back down
so freely they could roam the sky.

I wonder, would you think them cowardly?
Sitting on the mountain's edge
like Mother Nature's Cinderella
alone at the ball, fingering a strand of pearls
not quite comfortable in the power of magic.

I prefer to think them polite,
standing down like the step sisters would have
if Cinderella had once, found her voice.

You, my darling, would see yourself
the sun, the hero. Asking only the chance
to share the sky.

Oddly enough I would agree.
Still, hardly oblige.