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