The Imbibed Cold Forms

The imbibed cold forms of the outside spears With the silvery glow threads of the sky Moon on the edge of the cloudy flowing tears Yesterday's morning in their dimming high And the flowers of frosty laid roses earth In colors of glowing mirrors evening From existence to the dark of gleaming birth Where every winter song now's to sing You're roses of frosty family tree Picking the thorns of the icily cold Each of your glisten moods I can now see In flickering shadows I cannot hold Nearness of yonder not faraway clouds With their gloomy seize on the earth going crowds