Across the fields glazed with winter's icy breathe
Across the fields glazed with winter's icy breathe
I watch in solemn anticipation as they appear.
Walking almost as if in unison they tread so lightly
and I stand absorbed by their beauty as they draw near.
As if carved from some magic substance they graze
and forage for their morning's meager meal.
Moving with grace and fortitude ever vigilant
advancing onward a glimpse of the unreal.
Though made of flesh and bone and cartilage
there is the presence of a different type of magic.
I hear the sound of a gunshot in the distant sky
one has fallen, the others flee, a sight so tragic.
There in the whiteness of the new fallen snow
beauty taken once again, stolen from this place.
All upon a winter's day I saw a vision of heaven
and watched it disappear as quickly, gone without a trace.