The seasons changed since I floated away in the Spring Summer gold melted into red, into orange, into gray. My body wasted. Lush and wet dried And cracked into burnt umber, A frail life support. The soft, damp earth grew cold and hard. My hips and hooves ached with the memory of warmth. Icy winds blew me further away From you. We searched through the long, deep rustling nights And huddled close (sisters, daughters, fawns) in the fog of our own breath. Hope that I would glimpse you again Was another icy wind. If the cracks are how the light gets in, how does the dark get out? We are blinded by the light we do not see, And burnt by fires tamped to ash.