Each year, each winter, each time
the first snow falls
familiar feelings fall with it.

Clean, dense white traverses
heaven to earth.

All covered, cottoned and calm,
I stand watching,
muted now as earth,
sure, silent and certain
as my own inevitable death.

I've come to find that every year
after dark on Christmas Eve,
my Heart and Mind meet without fear
at the corner of Bitter and Sweet.

They seem to laugh and chat and grieve.
Both have Her own agenda.
Each others'  burdens they relieve
on the corner of Bitter and Sweet.

Their topics differ wildly.
I'm not privy to them early.
They always part quite mildly
from the corner of Bitter and Sweet.

Their opinions vary without exception.
I now wait and let them linger.
They come from differing direction,
to the corner of Bitter and Sweet.

The other times they meet -then leave,
it's always unexpected.
I relish their meeting on Christmas Eve
under the lamppost of Bitter and Sweet.

Light blushing through trees,
     my journey ends, dawn to dusk.
          Evening always comes.

Thoughts fly through memories
past time run hard,
followed fast by experience.

(Eyes coax out smiles,
lips reach each jut and hollow,
blessed sturdy hands hold on)

With blind bias
I am completely
   u n d o n e

Are you
my detour,
my shifting road,
my dead-end street?

Feeling for truth I'm afraid to find
MY HANDS
plunged in past my elbows.
GOOD OR GONE,
doubt riddles me like winter weather.

Fissures worn through the pan;
MY DAY.
Not bailing, I sift..
catching only truth too large
to fall through the
CRACKS.

My warm hands wander
'round your collar and down,
******* each buttoned button,
over crisp cuffs.

The edge of cotton white
at the slide of your neck.
One curved ear draws my fingers
into your hair...

My mind is gone.
You are my body,
                         my bias,
                                   my best.