Breath in Winter

No rush
of sparrow wings
ruins this
exquisite silence.
A winter forest
inhales the slow
breath of seasons,
readies herself, eyes closed.
The bare bark like my sleeping
lover’s naked skin.

suspended beneath
a frozen pond
lips wait for
warm breezes.
Phantasms of first
thaw unfold wet, vital –

the softness of
a barely open mouth, the tempting
promise of her voice.
She rises and I
discover she wears
glory, breathes promise.
Her hands slide like sunlight
through naked
canopies to
feed the starving
yellow brush.

12/24/05