Beneath a moon new and wonderful
I came to believe some buses are made to be missed.
Magic and the universe do not run to timetables.
Clouds occluding stars jagged edges dripped
Snow- sky of winter up to its tricks again.
Winter trickster you lead me a dance, your gift,
Laughing at the possibility of everything
Through border places to beyond, where truth
Appears double edged in a shining space ship,
On a bus, or seeps up from the oceans of Annwn.
I know beyond doubt your visions are blessed.
If you are a trickster, truth is a trickster too.