Heat for the Season
Late in the season and you are deep in the woods,
laying down, looking up, beyond the dry winter limbs
to the rich blue sky above. Watching clouds
as they dance in the wind.
She is next to you. You are holding hands.
All bundled up against the cold,
only the smallest bit of flesh shows,
a small flash of skin near the base of her neck
where the woolen scarf has fallen open.
Enough heat for the season.
About this poem.
A love poem. You probably figured that out.
The picture was taken at the Hebron Nature Reserve, not far from my home.