All Seasons Are of You

*
How can I hold wintertime as you
were before, in lace trimmed drapes
I thought were kisses of time disclosing
that you were the exception to every dove,
who came to say you were needed as a
peacemaker otherwhere,

for everyone but me.

Can't you see I've already learned
from your gardenia escapes, that
winter has it's own extemporized sun...
it's own heart woven fine enough
to mend the untouched cold tale
in me.

I lost your despondency and
refurnished what you kept vacant
at the eve of windows;
Announcing you as my sad Lucy,
the one I would scream for on times
of division, when the pearls over your
neckline denied the purity we walked for
in snowstorms....

I must not keep stretching my weight to
fit around the secret bound notebooks of
winter. I'm just the man who's been
soldiering you across vales and soundtracks
that couldn't make you stay.

You are not a spirit away, you are closer
than I had ever dared discover and those
white shrouds I never looked behind will
remind me how to spill my tongue for you....

and deliver short days where nights
are the longest sign of home I would
ever be able to predict.
*

*August 24, 2012