It happens to us all...
Yeah. Some of you have seen this before, but I'm digging it up for someone in particular. Of course, if I could just wake up the damn poet, he could write something more pertinent, and fresh, instead of me having to recycle his old crap.
Eenyhoo, hang in there! Plenty of good thoughts headed your way...
#Untitled #523 (#Winter Wind)
Last night, as I was sweeping the snow from my car, the
night wind grew in strength and whirled
the flying flakes into my eyes. But something about the
wind felt different. This wind was gentler than the one that
whistled and moaned outside my window, stalking
about my apartment, looking for a weakness. As
my hands stopped their work, the brush forgotten,
memories of warmer winters chased laughter
and the spectacle of us running giddily to the car; then, though
I wore only a t-shirt and jeans, I barely
shivered, even in the February air. I was entranced for
but a moment, until the wind blew snow in my eyes,
not raindrops, and suddenly I was back
from the opposite coast, back from
the time when it was you and me and 40 degrees was
cold.
Where are the good times that I knew we would
have forever? What imp chose last night, out of
all the lonely nights, to haunt me with
the sarcastic glint of your eye and the
warm sound of your laughter, things owned by
nights long
gone?
mm
02/12/00
Eenyhoo, hang in there! Plenty of good thoughts headed your way...
#Untitled #523 (#Winter Wind)
Last night, as I was sweeping the snow from my car, the
night wind grew in strength and whirled
the flying flakes into my eyes. But something about the
wind felt different. This wind was gentler than the one that
whistled and moaned outside my window, stalking
about my apartment, looking for a weakness. As
my hands stopped their work, the brush forgotten,
memories of warmer winters chased laughter
and the spectacle of us running giddily to the car; then, though
I wore only a t-shirt and jeans, I barely
shivered, even in the February air. I was entranced for
but a moment, until the wind blew snow in my eyes,
not raindrops, and suddenly I was back
from the opposite coast, back from
the time when it was you and me and 40 degrees was
cold.
Where are the good times that I knew we would
have forever? What imp chose last night, out of
all the lonely nights, to haunt me with
the sarcastic glint of your eye and the
warm sound of your laughter, things owned by
nights long
gone?
mm
02/12/00