And in the predawn hush, as birds song still and calm cold airs lay deep in icy hollows, we gathered
Stomp frozen boots upon the frozen ground
With maps and torches, guides to who knows where, we seek and yet we hope we will not find
But in that winter wilderness, set in crystal, glinting in the rising sun, our breath hung powder white in sharp dry air.
We heard, oh so loud and clear, that pierced the hearts and laboured chests of those spread far and near
And vivid crimson blossoms there were that bloomed in snow and wrote his name in DNA
Reminding none who saw them of a long lost summer’s day
But filled us only with dismay as we followed, hounds’ deep paw prints led the way
To what we knew not, yet in yonder thicket lay
Palest blue, frosted skin, like birthday ice upon his birthday cake
Part clothed in snow, curled foetus like to sleep
A sleep so deep that he will never wake
No word is spoke for any word we spake
Will shatter silent sorrowed pity’s sake
So small, so frail, who led him to this place?
And leading here why did his life they take?
(Dedicated to the memory of Christopher, may he rest in peace).