On the wing: An afternoon in winter

Winter strips life to the bones:

here are the trees of summer

with leaf, flower and fruit all gone.

Everything's clear.

There's a stillness in the air

I never heard in summer,

and, in this emptiness,

each ripple of life stands out.

I watch your breath.

And, when the music plays,

the skater spins her metaphor:

the world gives off its chill,

and you and I are balanced here
on a thin blade.

The spinning arms and legs

have come to rest.

The snow is deep. The night is near.

If my kiss doesn't warm you now,

it never will.

On the wing