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Why the Rush?
a drop of sky-tear and ice hung delicately poised from her cold nose, and paused for contemplation of the fall from a pretty face
blinding snow and empty roads stretch away from the noise of the empty dying city, punctured by footprints of the leaving and the arriving
a red freckle sizzles under the high sun on the face of a fair lady sitting remembering fights and cold nights before she found a mountain to babysit
a winding valley whispers of snow-melt on this late spring reminice of ancient hot unwitnessed summers, here in the high ocean-distanced sacred hills
she's proud, but not overly so, of her space away from the cares of the zippered and fast-fed drones she left far behind in time
and her own love is joining her mountain-top
and her loved is seeking safety in solitude
and her lover is standing reciting peace to the quiet watching passing clouds
away from crowds, he cares and keeps her safe from civilization, rampant and redundant, a knight in april showers, armor in wit, with a patient sword
You portray each verse like a polaroid snapshot with insightful scratchings at the bottom of each carefully captured moment in time... only your writing shows much more than a photo could ever capture... great write.