Bitter Wind

I saw the bitter wind…
It shaped the swirling snow
Into patterns
Traced by gusts.
Crystalline windscapes
Of fine white powder
Chased a thousand etchings beyond
The restaurant glass.

I sat transfixed
By more than the simple beauty
Of snow.
Tugging at the fray of reason
I understood.

I was the snow
Chased and shaped
By the will of your wind
Forming me into as many
Patterns
As these.

I was tossed
And scattered
Pushed by you
Contorted across the fields
And roadways
Of our relationship.

Shifting and exiled
Was I.

But there was one
Glaring difference
Between the wind and you.

You are far more cold.