Watching as the host makes her entrance

We trees swill our auburn brandy
in glasses of cut crystal,
try to mingle as the party  
dies down colourful and cold.
the last turn of our heads
is lost in wet transparent transfers  
as she slides down her staircase
with open arms to face us.
 
Her eyes only see refracted light,
a smile that holds only white
swirling behind angry teeth,
she doesn't know of what she speaks.
As she sweeps through the room
so cold, the birds drop from our branches,
demanding the band keeps playing
as she dances on the hard earth of her lovers.
 
We can only watch our breath mix
with field mist as her hand silences the lake
and takes the sound away from our room,
we are statues for her jewels, adorned by her gifts,
forgotten chimney smoke lost on church steeple chimes.
The city lights have her attention now
as she moves the party into town.