Small felt smaller still after
being buried alive, wrapped
Egyptian style in layers
bred of cold desperation.
Much energy was wasted
fuming, whining, recounting
tales of those whose days were filled
with blue skies and toes in sand,
Paradise lost; squirming drove
Small deeper into her grave,
tied icy anchors to hopes
that hell had frozen over.
Large watched in compassionate
silence. Grieving. Waiting for
Small’s heart to thaw. He sent his
love in diamonds, reflective
prisms in hues carved by age-
old mysteries into shards
of brilliance, setting each stone
with a jeweller’s practised eye,
glowing treasures at her throat.
He waits still. Small sags, sulky,
snow-blind. But patience lives where
love glitters; Large wipes her tears
with rainbows, crowns her mornings
with gentle soliloquies
cooed by mourning doves,
harnessing the Chinook winds
to end her hibernation.