I see your face in the sky.
Are you really there?
Are you my vision?
Clouds never conceal you,
your gaze is fixed upon me.
Is this how you said it would be —
nothing would ever separate us?
The forest whispers, and
a flute plays in the snow.
James Aitchison is an Australian author and poet whose work has appeared in the Australian Poetry Anthology, Quadrant, Aesthetica (UK), and Black Poppy Review.
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