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An Angel

Biting cold.
The tears fall,
like so much snow.
My voice cracks,
like melting ice.

The wind whips my hair around,
so many black strands,
like the snakes,
that now hide in there holes.

So cold.
So frosty.
So lost.

Will I ever be found?
Will I be left to die?

Suddenly from the trees,
comes a figure,
and reaches out his hand.
"I'm here"

I take his hand,
and look in his eyes.
"Are you an angel?"
He cups my face.
"Angels don't save angels.
I just found the one hiding in the trees."

His hair,
black like mine,
sprinkled with silver.
His expression,
but most of all,

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