Evening blushes that sent the moon
astray into the cascading cloud
shadows like a shooting star
arcade;
Listening to the gentle tapping of
cold night air strapping, against
the old timber that sheltered our
napping;
We cuddled against the frost bitten
nibbles of winters gest, creeping
in cracks to invade our nest;
Closer we clasped our bodies so
tight, like a sealed envelope with
no letter inside;
Wee little minutes pass slow into
hours, time tells no difference
when winter devours;
Awake in our slumber, our minds
settled rest, a chance to remember
perhaps just a test;
Oh how the bedside is cold on my
feet, warm mitten slippers there
like a treat;
I roll into you like a packers sack,
and spoon in closer, tummy to
back:
Next to the bed, the heat register
hums, sound off to sleep-like a
thousand soft drums.
