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
12/25/00