Like watching spring's first bloom open,

You were something to behold.

I was visiting the Windy City;

You kept me from being cold.

Soon enough, I will forget your name;

Your rosebud lips, nonetheless,

And your swaying-boughs voice,

Will yet make my passions bold.


For you have melted through my indifference,

You have thawed the permafrost of my soul.

Though you likely will never settle its valley,

My heart yields to you a tribute of its firstfruits.

With your quiet warmth, you have loosed winter's grip

--you have set me free.