Winter,
covers the trees,
tenderly with fog,
and the flowers,
gift their fragrance,
to the mist to preserve;
like the memory of a lover,
forgotten after,
an intense season of love.
winter
acts on each one,
differently.
she said,
winter makes her skin,
crave for caresses;
she is a tree with secret hunger in winter.
I have known that all these years.
"my fruits
need your tender care,
all through the winter days"
she murmurs in my ear.
I love winter
touching me here and there,
like a shy bride, curious but timid.
I sense her tender fingers,
creep on to my body,
under the cover.
I get enraptured
by her amorous touch.
I wake up and pretend
not to notice the ingression,
as it pleases me so much.
Winter has already started knocking on the door, here is my first winter poem, this season.