walk with me until we can’t walk anymore
talk with me until we can’t talk anymore
laugh with me until we can’t laugh anymore
be with me until we can’t be anymore
Thoughts in winter stumble with
a stop-action rhythm
both jarring and comforting.
With hard edges and delicate skeletons,
they push to the forefront of consciousness;
greedy, needy and completely camouflaged
in the light of the cold January sky.