Frozen Luck

Luck once grew in summer light,

soft and green beneath warm skies,

now it stands in crystal white—

holding breath as winter passes by.

Each leaf wears a glassy crown,

shimmering with borrowed shine,

as if fortune itself slowed down

and learned how to wait in time.

One thaw away from disappearing,

one warm touch from being gone,

yet in this fragile moment here,

luck is still holding on.

So I freeze what fades too fast,

this quiet miracle of chance—

a whisper of the past made glass,

a single, shining, trembling glance.