More Winter's Musings

The bitter winter wind

bites my skin

stinging like small bees,

leaving raw, my exposed flesh.

But I am oblivious - unaware,

as thoughts of you warm my heart.

 I hear your voice as if born upon the wind -

your laughter as if conveyed by the trees.

A small smile tugs the corners of my mouth -

a reflection of the smile that embraces my heart.

By Harley


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