Winter Kiss

Whirlpools and windmills drive you.
The spinning, spiraling forces outside you
Trick you. They pick you up and shake you.
They take you out of you and batter the spirit.
Yours is a spirit born to pirouette. To soar.
This anchor I offer to hold you. To buffer.
A port of protection if only for a moment’s rest
So that in slumber’s peace you may dream,
Imagining paperback smells and muted laughter.
Until, like winter kisses, my words will dance,
Caress your face until your tears and fears subside.


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