Often, when the world began to freeze,
I saw him step from shadows of the trees
And every time, I froze and held my breath.
He lived outside, in seasons of the sky;
In paper seasons, paper worlds, live I.

If love could touch his heart, it came as battle:
Ripping sod and snorts and antlers' rattle,
Leaping like a fencer or a dancer
Trusting in the ritual of fall
Not aware he held that trust at all.

He paid his victory’s price, one frosty night.
And somewhere in the woods, as is their right,
The mice chewed up the remnants of his bones.
He lived and died in seasons of the sky;
In paper seasons, paper worlds, live I.