all my dreams

take me backwards

i can see

a little child

his mother

in black

what a pleasure

touched by death

snow falls

cover the dead

cold doesn't

touch her

ice melts

as the warm tears fall

kissing the dead brother

and it's snowing still

in a lake of white

swans stare

at their direction

sad they live

black strange birds are coming

although early

the night deep falls

tears turn to ice

by the cold

the snow covers his body

and the snow stops falling

in shape like crows and as swans

become wizards speaking human words

the morning next together they will be