centering
her winter palette favors browns and grays
the fruit salad of her summer wardrobe away
somber tones reflect nothing of her moods
rather an old-world practically if not tradition
the fire lies beneath and within the hues
merely bank the fire the heat is there deep
last evening as a rare overcast settled upon us
and sent us early to books and music
it came to me that it was her fire and ice
that made this cowboy house a home
on a cold evening she warmed me
and i had been cold for a very long time
she is the heart of it and the heat of it
around which our world my world centers
Poetry by one trick pony
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Editors' choiceWritten on 2022-01-15 at 13:08
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LacyxDevine |
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Editorial Team |
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Esti D-G |
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Lawrence Beck |
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Griffonner |
