Snow Horse

If I am to be
Snow Horse
I will paw
at your door
just when
Winter’s deepest
and you
will not see
just an onyx
in your heart
the same
colour as
my eyes.

I will wait
in the icy night,
my breath
making clouds
on your neck
until you open
your old,
heart eyes
and take my
mane of white rain

-then, old friend,
we will both
know freedom

I am very curious as to what readers think- this is a different style for me. Is it a children’s poem? I wonder…