Remembrance of a Winter Morning

For JPK

The soft blue first light of morning; cold and quiet. Your breath ticked away hours.

The iron stove glowed brightly the night before, 
How we laughed.

And the day before that, the bright, sweet aspen in the air as you brought down the axe in tremendous heaving blows, your forearms taut and glistening in the sun.

I still search for you in the half light some mornings, when I am near waking--when these dreams of us, of that winter, are so close.

Reviews

[Melissa]

This is like a pristine alpine picture, laced with a shawl on firelit wall, and beneath the picture a woman waits wistful.. It's beautiful poetry.

[DeCipher]

Really neat poem! I like this very much

[Annie Ale]

I like how you left it open to the fact that this person you are referring to could be someone you know, or a complete stranger.