There's a song
that forces my memory back
to a train in Chicago.
I watched through the window
the trees passing.

Two days.
The warmth of your body
and the warmth of the fire
indiscernibly bound.
Embraced as we were.
Woven as our hearts were
in the Winter, just west
of Chicago.

The two of us, suspended,
stunned but not questioning,
our ability to feel
the absolute brilliance of things.