Winter: when the Northern Hemisphere has bowed down to the sun,
when frostbite grips the most ardent heart until it loves no one,
when the fluttering pulse of the earth relies on life support,
when the wind casts an anemic cold through icy window panes,

just wait until that fateful night when city lights fade away,
until back doors slam with thrill as the sun melts into the trees,
until footsteps crunch through snow- but are then stopped dead in their tracks,
then upturned eyes reflect the flickering dark, and hands are warmed with love.
/ winter becomes bearable/ frostbite loses its grip for a while

To my dear astronomer, please know,
that although I may never see you again,
our lives are but a clear night in winter:
and you are a sky full of stars.

To my dear astronomer, please know,
that although I may never see you again,
our lives might always be steeped in bitter coldness,
but you are a clear sky full of stars.