Though frigid,
The air is full,
The forecast calling
For snow.
I see your face
In the morning sky,
Surfing the
crystal-laced stillness,
Following the
Unseen tracks of
The night sky.
The day stretches
Before us,
Languid and
Loose.
I return your smile,
Cresting the hill
As the woods sighs
Around me.
Categories: Poetry