The snow
Sifting
Past the window,
Blindly seeking
Completion
After the law
Of beginnings and ends.
Like this poem
A turning inward
To the soft warmth
Of your body;
Like this poem
The hours and minutes
Are signposts in the night.
Sifting
Past the window,
Blindly seeking
Completion
After the law
Of beginnings and ends.
Like this poem
A turning inward
To the soft warmth
Of your body;
Like this poem
The hours and minutes
Are signposts in the night.