...the wet brush of snowflakes was like your kisses everywhere ...

you cross the field in the snow leaving tracks in perfect whiteness ...disturbing my placid universe...marking the landscape within me ...

...winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird...

... this longing inside me that never goes away, must be a poem...must be you ...

...before you, life was desolate - the past hardly worth remembering - and now, each moment a keepsake I can't throw away ...

...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...

...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...

...we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...

...poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths...