Last night
we watched the moon
light the bare, withered fields—
evening darkness warmed with our clasp
of hands.
I pledge
in this New Year
to write my love cinquain—
bold songs that celebrate our life,
our troth.
Outside,
the fierce North wind
drifts shut all the highways—
we are snowbound, isolated,
alone.
Inside,
the winter night
shut out with our embrace—
star-crossed, is there greater power
than love?
Embers
from the fireplace
sputter on the stone hearth—
did Helen and Paris light fires
this bright?
