A Vigil for Frost

Blue smoke from the dented car, again.
Too many deer around here.
The smoke should be brown.
The air bites.

The sun is barely lit.
It's either dawn or dusk,
Either way, it's blue.

The shops are opening,
Just a few traffic lights left, three,
To find my way back to you.

Find shelter in me,
A crystal, Egyptian blue,
A safe house,
Made of lapis lazuli.

Read in me Rumi,
Hold me up to the sun.
On the other side,
All the world is blue.

Leave when you must.
I'll light a candle.
From Pharos, through stained-glass windows,
Look for a world of blue.

— Ziggurat