Shall I dismiss the coming of winter,
An old man bent with burdensome thought?
Shall I forget the fall that found me doubting?
From autumn weans a cold December,
the meanest month of all.

The words
drop from the sky
are tangled in trees
fall to the ground
and die
So I
desperate to create
make the mistake
of bringing meaning
to their life.

Her hot blood whispers,
secrets in the spring,
whispers of her,
whisper to me.

Beneath a jealous moon,
Silky she lies,
within my dreams,
and while sleeping
the world snores softly
carried on whisper thin wings.

And out of the nebulous night,
whisper-like laughter emits,
I feel her smile,
I hear her wonder,
Her breathing, her whispers,
exciting my skin,
Always those whispers,
I listen in.…

Let us escape in our wonder
let us paint our own picture
let us hang our great hunger
from frayed ropes of hope.
Let us harvest our time,
from such smiles divine
that our hearts may grow strong
with our plunder.