Quiet Fall
After the Accumulation
Crack open the window
Admit the illicit cold
Like a secret lover who
Slips in over the sill
Savor The taste of cold skies
Tooth aching
The brace of damp musk
Burns nostrils like arctic smoke
An ear bent to the opening
Hears chilled perfection
the sound, ice on ice
Sweeps the ground, unreplicable
Brigid’s passionate lips
entice the glass
I close the window
End our embrace
covet the maelstrom from afar
leave the cold fire to
reclaim the world with possessivness born
of Nature and frigid Lore.
2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
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