Sunlight pierces through the cold air, a sharp blade
teasing the sturdy plants with a diluted warmth.
The morning turns to noon and the intruding day,
tries to whisper through closed shades as my lover brushes unruly hair from my cheek.
There is snow on the other side of the city,
winter has not reached me yet with its white, dry fingers.
And after the snowfall wakes us, we wipe delicate flakes from our eyes,
step out of one blanket into another and savour the warmth of our skin.
Birds flutter into the trees; always curious
where the other ones go, a flurry of indecision or necessity.