Saturday, March 17, 2007

Cold Spring Morning

Snow falls softly on the grass
clean is the world
all is quiet at ten after five
the world is still asleep at this hour
darkness covers me
the bitter cold
digging its claws into my skin
why is the sun so late
forward is the time in spring
Phil must have had a hangover
for warmth is not yet here
yet the warm naked body still in my bed
beckons me to return
her skin soft and warm
the smell of her hair sweet as a flower
for pete's sake dog just go...

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