The flecked blue stone I buried in the snow,
Robbed from my finger one forsaken night,
Snowflakes circled, pristine and sugar white,
The frozen lake so many miles below,
And traffic lights so many miles behind.
I sped through them regardless of their hue,
Even the light of moon when it withdrew,
Like a promise that had not yet been signed,
When laugher bubbled more like a champagne.
But there were hawks that circled overhead,
My only friend, found in the water, dead,
By some monster that mankind can’t restrain,
When emptiness spoke louder than before.
My heart exhaled a strange and bitter air,
That she be slaughtered and left to lie there,
In plastic bags, unloaded, on the shore.
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