Left Handed Darkness

A Sonnet

I got this story when I carried you
and you kicked up a storm inside of me
in the left handed dark waiting to freeze
and my image of you was turning blue.
The tale sung by an old brown wizard,
or maybe she was a witch? I don’t know,
just that you are pretty as fallen snow
and we are safe in here from the blizzard
so now I shall read this story out loud
before your bedtime into the long night
where the pages are blankets we hold tight
lest they become our white funeral shroud.
	Sweet relief as your eyes became dimmer
	in hibernation of Heaven’s Winter.