the frozen image

The weather was an ambush, the chill unusual;
And I miss clear signs, which will set more evenings
In to the oblivion, while we admire the cunning sun

Braving the wind she stood, like a sirocco within,
Which is now hers and soon will be mine;
Our gazes down the cliff, mind on the devious selves

People around and the coming hour, both scaring me away
And to her visage with almost invisible marks, I gravitate;
I approach, a wave to the fortnight moon ready to eclipse

Our shoulders touching, one naked, one high
Knowing that closest we'll now ever be, forever be,
I etch in black and white, this painting of colour