Like everything I love the most,
I too, wither among the frost.

It bites at my skin
flows cold through my veins
like hospital iv

They call it seasonal
They call it affective
They call it disorder.

I call it "aching for the warm."

I have always hated to see my breath linger in the chill

as if to see my own exhale
is to see my living
is to see my eventual end.

Too many things die when the snow falls

I pray that I will not be one of them.

I read a Thousand love sonnets,
Oh what grandoise thoughts I had of
You Pablo,
Somehow sitting beside an open fire,
Highly romanticised visions
Running through you in
Crystalline clarity of the human heart.
       Oh what wonderous mythic thoughts
I had until I went grocery shopping.
I see you Pablo Neruda in your
Naked truth,
A sun setting fatigue over you,
You scrawling about a list of food,
At first which I thought was the Poem.
     But this could not be the Poem,
Words cannot fluster a man like you,
     I followed for a while ,first in awe,
Then in a sad curiousity.
  What happend to this man
And the allusions of such brilliant
Women in white dresses that must
Dance through his corridors?
      He walks a tired walk,
Slowly approaching another figure.
And there was the plain truth
Of a plain man with the adventurous heart.
    " Did you get the pork chops?"
She asks him in a worn down voice.
    "Yes dear"

And in this stroke of reality
Where dreams come to swift the soul
Away into the portico on some purple
Glazed sunlit dusk,
    Or the woman seeking the warmth
From the benighted snow next to
A porcelain fire which seemingly
Births tiny star like embers that light
The eyes of the lovers,
    I realise that it is the escape that is poetry,
The words are groanings of the deepest
Nature of the person,
    And the truth is not necessary,
For the poem sets us free from what
We all seem to already know.

China blue evensong
white egg moon, birds nest night
frost gilt grass shivers.

Early is the mourning
Of the glory that shall pass
Cold is the forelorning
As I dream of the past

In the days of old
The knights were still bold
Now its foretold
That the nights will be cold

This chivalrous knight of mine
Rides in with winter wind
Freezing the vine
And my heart in the end

I'll wake in the morning
To find that glory has past
The nights are freezing
And cold hearts
         Cant last

Iron and steel hugging the sky
Footsteps on the sidewalk all faded black
The train and cars are rushing by
With faces that are never coming back

The lights never die, the frost takes hold
Sitting on the corner of the block
Clutching my paper cup in the cold
The people always pass, but they never stop

Iron and steel hugging the sky
The rays of sun are so far above
Watching the pigeons as they try to fly
Sitting on the pavement waiting for love

The lights never die, I breathe in the air
Shadows of hope grants me some bread
They wonder how much longer I'll be sitting here
and I´m thinking maybe until I'm dead

Iron and steel hugging the sky
I'm just dealing with the hand I was dealt
Been long since I stopped asking myself why
Now I just worry about when the snow will melt

The lights never die, another coin in my cup
I smile as she disappears into the crowd
Thank you my dear, but it´s never enough
The shouts from the penniless are always too loud

Frost doesn't care
What anyone thinks.
It moves to its own music
And then waits
To see the repercussions.

A life where your only enemies
Are heat and a window scraper.
Destroyed designs
Are nothing to cry about.
Jack Frost will come around once more
When the sun goes down
And the scraper is put to rest.