***

Bitter winds and blinkless nights
seep into my bones;
February creeps up on me,
like an old man with a cane
and a quivering voice.

I catch myself
sifting through old moments
- pulling out vibrant strings of spring;
hula hoops and skipping ropes
twirling in the grass,
and huge smiles crinkling your eyes.

How can this dreary day
suffocate my view,
when there are such vivid hopes
with wings of brightest hue?

I must find you and take your hand,
- so that we can chase away
the biting cold and whispery snow
that tries to bar our way.

And together we will
melt the icy breaths;
we will dream of a young,
mischievous March
and her airy skipping steps.