Sunday, January 5, 2014

5 Degrees at 6 am

                                                                        "Stars", 1926 by Maxfield Parrish

I watch from above
as he walks into the maw
of howling cold darkness

I am wearing thick socks
while he wears triple layers

I wonder if the thought of me 
waiting here alone 
will keep him warm enough
to bring him home, swiftly and safe

the wind is moaning its agony
into our bones, now separated 
by distance and duty,
by commerce and consumerism

the blankets are empty 
of everything but his scent
I hug them tightly around me,
lean against his pillow, yawning, 
burrow deep into this cavern

he is out there somewhere,
battling good and evil
with his leather gloves

with me shivering in his back pocket,
a thought as small as snowflakes,
a love as large as the Grand Canyon,
so big it can be seen from space
with all its stars