I saw you standing
A silhouette of silvered wax
Silent in the window watching
Mournful eyes of gray dew
A photograph of black and winter hues
What draws you to this light?
Is there comfort in these silver tendrils?
Like a blanket from a dusty gray attic
Warm as the wax in a mournful candle
A gray photograph on your window mantle
The waning moon is not yet gone
I know you wait as the shadows lengthen
Your silhouette hardly a feathers weight leaning
And you remain hidden until this gray returning
And in my heart I watch a photograph remaining