Ice in the Spring

It was night above
But yellow at the rim
My last days here were spent
Raising the fence
To keep the glow from seeping in
Beyond the gate
I knew the crystal chandelier
Had released its spokes into the watercourse
The cathedral in the fog unmanned
The sunken meadow with no guilt
Began to ache
But in my last days here
I locked the gate
And turned the mirror
So that the silver side was looking at the paint
It was night above
But yellow at the rim
There is ice in the spring
There is ice in the spring